


Daughter of the Rain and Snow

by miraellie



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (2011)
Genre: Aesir!Loki, Alternate Universe, F/M, Misogyny, Racism, Sexism, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 80,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraellie/pseuds/miraellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the second great war between Jotunheim and Asgard, Odin wants to ensure that peace will be unbreakable this time, and so he takes two hostages from Laufey’s court: The eldest son Helblindi… and the ward who willingly offers herself, Sigyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cost of Peace

    “I will go.”   
      
    Her voice, steady and clear, broke through the tension in Laufey’s throne room. All eyes turned to her, including that of Odin Allfather and his son. His expression was unreadable, even to her. His cape was the colour of dried blood and it struck her as oddly funny, given the circumstances, though it wasn’t really the time for laughing.   
      
    “I will go as the Allfather’s hostage,” she repeated, standing tall. “Along with Helblindi.”  
      
    “You will hold your tongue and stand aside,” Laufey said. A hand fell on her shoulder but she shook it off, mostly because she could not be dissuaded and because she didn’t want the other Jotun to feel how badly she was trembling. It was a risk, she realized. The air in the room crackled, waiting for just one wrong word to ruin everything more than it already was. Several Jotnar shifted their weight from foot to foot, glancing around uneasily, their gazes most often staying on the Allfather and his son.  
      
    One wrong word was all it would take to start the war anew.  
      
    “If this is what it costs for peace,” she said slowly, meeting the tyrant Allfather’s eyes steadily, “then I will gladly pay it.”  
      
    “Who are you, child?” The Allfather said, and she hated the gentleness in his voice. He wasn’t gentle, and the fact that he was trying to act as if he was--especially to her--was insulting.   
      
    “I am Laufey’s ward, the sister-daughter of Farbauti,” she said, lowering her head politely. Would a ward be considered an acceptable hostage? She hoped so. She hoped her thin relations to Laufey would make her a good enough hostage.  
      
    The Allfather simply stared at her before turning back to Laufey. “Two hostages, Laufey. That will keep the peace between us.”  
      
    She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, tension leaving her shoulders just a little. She saw Helblindi stiffen beside Laufey, his expression terrible, his desire to fight back against this clear. She made certain to keep her expression blank, giving them no hint of what she was thinking or feeling. Instead she merely watched as Laufey and the Allfather stared at each other. For a moment it seemed as if Laufey would fight back against it--not for her sake, certainly. But for Helblindi’s, his eldest son and heir...  
      
    But then Laufey took a step back. “You will have your hostages, Allfather,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “But who will we receive in return?”  
      
    For a moment, she expected the black haired man to step forward. The Allfather called out something and two others stepped forward, however. War generals, it would seem. Hardly a fair trade, both for her and for Helblindi. A son for a son; a ward for someone lesser. But Laufey was not truly in any position to argue.   
      
    And then, just like that, it was done. Her fate was decided. _At least,_ she thought, _it was chosen by myself and no one else._ It was a small comfort. Before she had time to contemplate what her future would be now, or indeed even think about it, the Allfather motioned towards her and Helblindi. Two soldiers came for her and she swallowed down the rising sense of panic. She wouldn’t even have any time to say goodbye?  
      
    The soldiers towered over her and then moved her forward, joining her with Helblindi. They were taken out of the throne room and then walked out of the remains of the castle, taken to the edge where the rest of the Aesir warriors waited for their king and princes. They both received blatant stares as they passed, curiousity and loathing and disgust evident on all, until finally the soldiers stopped near a four legged horse. It stared at them for a long moment before snorting and looking away, pawing a little at the ground, still expecting battle.   
      
    She wished to go over and stroke his muzzle, but she stayed where she was, watching the Aesir shiver in what was considered warmer weather for her kin. She should have looked down at the ground, she supposed, instead of so apparently staring at her enemy, but did not. Though the first few times she saw the Aesir men looking at her and her bared blue skin in what was obviously lust, she felt tempted to look away. She clenched her fists, suddenly feeling exposed under their gazes when she never had before. Helblindi would not help her if one of them approached her, and neither would the soldiers who stayed by their sides, and the Allfather would not care.  
      
    Not for the first time, she felt fear of the Aesir. And the knowledge that she would likely have to live with that fear daily once she was in Asgard made her tremble again.  
      
    Helblindi shifted his weight, the anger coming off of him in waves, and it gave her an excuse to look away from the soldiers to him. “Do not move so much,” she said quietly in their native tongue. “You will make them nervous.”   
      
    “I do not care,” he replied. The soldiers that flanked them cast them suspicious looks, but did nothing to stop them. “And you should be ashamed, making them believe you are not bothered by this. That we are be taken by them in an attempt to bring peace, when you and me both know the Allfather will never stay true to his word.”  
      
    She said nothing. They had peace now. And that peace had come at the cost of their lives, but if it meant keeping the rest of their kin alive, she could accept it. Surely the Allfather would not turn his back on that truce, that bond created by words and her sacrifice.   
      
    It was almost surprising how much she wanted to believe in the good in him when she had been taught again and again that there was none.   
      
    They waited for the Allfather to finish his talks with Laufey and join them. Really, as long as it was taking them, she and Helblindi could have been allowed to say goodbye. To Angrboda, her only friend and clanskin, whom she’d run away from to get into the throne room instead of to the safety of the caves. To Farbauti, the closest thing she’d had to a mother, and to the other women she would never see again. The ache of loss struck her hard, then, but she willed herself not to cry. Not yet, not now, with all the soldiers watching her.  
      
    Then, finally, the familiar dried blood cape and the golden armor appeared in the doorway of the castle, followed by the quiet son. The Allfather walked quickly, not at all looking like he had just won a war and beat her kin back into submission. The quiet one’s expression was carefully blank, though his gaze kept wandering over to his father, almost questioningly. It made her wonder what had transpired in the throne room after she and Helblindi had left.  
      
    “We’re leaving,” the Allfather barked shortly, his voice somehow echoing through the wind. The soldiers cheered and soon the sounds of a thousand men preparing to leave filled the night air. The Allfather left his son to attend to his own business, and the quiet one flexed his hands briefly and stayed where he was. He let out a small sigh, his breath forming in the air. Then he straightened and seemed to rein himself in.  
      
    Sigyn knew a little of what that felt like, having to keep yourself in check around others.  
      
    Then he turned to see her staring. She felt Helblindi tense beside her and she herself stiffened a little, holding the dark one’s gaze for a long moment before he finally walked away. He had kept his expression blank, but she knew what he thought of her, just as the other Aesir did. They were all the same in their thinking.   
      
    As the soldiers began to move, she took one last look up at the castle and the remains of the city that had once spread across the frozen land. Somewhere, the faint echo of yet another building crumbling reached them, almost lost in the noise of the Aesir. She tried to memorize the feeling of the rocks and snow under her feet, the chill of them, the sharpness and toughness against her skin. Tried to hold on to the feeling of the midnight sun and how the land looked under its glow, how the cool wind felt as it blew over her skin, the feel of snowflakes landing on her blue skin. How the air felt when she breathed it in, sharp and sweet.   
      
    There would be none of that in Asgard, so she breathed it all in, tried to absorb it in some attempt to bind it to herself, to take it with her.   
      
    Then she began walking, keeping it with her, those last few moments in her land. She focused not on the sound of a thousand men walking and cheering and laughing, but of simply herself and the feel of Jotunheim. It helped her to ignore the destruction the Aesir had caused in the war, of the bodies she was certain were still lying out in the fields. She had seen enough of the horrors inflicted on her kin while she worked in the healing rooms. She was not ready to see more.   
      
    Her body collided with something, throwing her out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked up at Helblindi as he cast her an irritated glance. “Stop dreaming,” he growled. They had stopped at the edge of the cliffs. She stood on tiptoes to see what was happening but could not see over the soldiers or Helblindi. Then the soldiers parted and before her stood the Allfather.  
      
    “Come,” was all he said, then he turned his back and began walking to the edge of the cliff. She followed, Helblindi refusing to move for a second until finally making his way over. She stared ahead and did not meet the gazes of the other soldiers. She stopped when she came to stand by the Allfather and his son. The Allfather’s son did not glance at her again, keeping his gaze resolutely on the horizon. It was nice to be ignored by at least one of the Aesir present, she thought.  
      
    “It is time to return home to the Realm Eternal,” the Allfather said, standing before his warriors, “and celebrate the beginning of a new peace, and mourn the losses on both sides that had to happen for it to be possible.”  
      
    _It did not have to happen,_ she thought. _But war is the only way our clans know how to speak to one another._   
      
    All around her the Aesir cheered and yelled, the sound vibrating her very bones and rising up into the starless night. She cringed as it stung her ears and a ringing sound lingered long after they had all fallen silent. She noticed that the quiet one did not cheer so much, barely at all. She was shuffled closer to him, though she made sure to keep as much space between them as possible. She did not want to give him reason to notice her.  
      
    Then the Allfather lifted his spear into the air and a bright light formed over them, reaching down for them. She felt the energy build, overwhelming in its power, then a prickling all over her skin. The cold rock ground of Jotunheim fell away under her feet as it felt like the light would pull her into tiny pieces, too many for her to ever possibly count, and then the energy carried them faster and faster through a small circle and she felt the bile rising up in her throat but she couldn’t close her eyes--  
      
    It was over in a second. She fell to her knees on an overly warm, smooth floor, her grunt of surprise turning into a gasp. The Allfather and his son turned to look at her as she laid on all floors, trembling. The energy crackled in the air, causing a shiver to run down her spine. No one came forward to help her, not even Helblindi, who was still standing though looking quite ill himself.  
      
    _Get up,_ Sigyn thought firmly, gritting her teeth. _Stand up, do not let them see you like this anymore than they have already._ She shakily got to her feet, not reaching out to lean on the walls as she could feel the energy still coursing through the metal. Touching it would only make things worse, she knew.  
      
    “Come with us,” the Allfather said, once it seemed like she had recovered enough. She followed along slowly, looking around at the circular building that surrounded them. Heimdall’s Gate, she had heard it called. The light it produced hurt her eyes, making her blink at the sudden change from the relative darkness of her home to this golden gleam. The etchings in the walls made her dizzy again, the endless circles throwing her off balance.  
      
    And yet she still wanted to stay and learn how everything single thing worked. She imagined what Angrboda’s reaction would be to such a thing: Exasperation and maybe not a little disgust that she was looking so kindly on something their enemy made. But there was no harm in admitting it was beautiful, was there, or wanting to know how it worked? Still, as much as she wanted to stay and study it, the others were leaving. And the presence of the Gatekeeper in the center of the room put her on edge. He was silent and did not turn her way, but she had the feeling he still saw her even if he did not see her with his eyes. She quickly followed the others and let out a sigh when they left the Gate.  
      
    And then she gasped softly as she took in her first sight of Asgard.   
      
    It was nighttime. The stars and far off galaxies set the sky alight in a myriad of colours. She had never seen so many stars or knew the sky could be so many colours. Underneath the bridge they were standing on, water rushed past until it fell into the cosmos. It smelled different from the water she knew of back home. There was a sweeter smell to it, somehow. But what caught her attention was the city. Everything glowed, like Heimdall’s Gate, an all too warm golden light that shone in the darkness. And in the middle of it all was what she assumed to be the Allfather’s castle, giant and golden and overlooking all of his domain.  
      
    Beacon of hope, shining out across the stars, it was said. Sigyn believed it then.   
      
    It was only then that she noticed the heat. It stuck to her cold skin, covered it completely, and already she missed the cold of her home. The sharpness on her tongue slowly disappeared, replaced by the dull taste of the warm air, and she hated it immediately.   
      
    “Keep up!” Helblindi’s sharp bark made her jump and she refocused her attention back on everyone. They were far ahead of her now, down the many coloured bridge. She quickly ran to keep up, her feet smacking against the hard metal of the bridge, the energy rushing up her legs at each touch.   
      
    “Forgive me,” she said quietly once she had caught up to Helblindi. He made no attempt to slow down for her, his long legs keeping him several paces ahead of her, and she had to almost run to keep up with him. The warmth made her lungs hurt, but she refused to complain. Behind her, she could hear the Gate open again and bring home the rest of the soldiers.   
      
    It would be a beautiful homecoming for them, the past half year away from home and loved ones. She tried not to feel too spiteful.   
      
    As they got closer to the city, she slowly noticed how quiet it was. Shouldn’t there have been families coming together to welcome their loved ones home? She looked around but saw no one. She drifted closer to Helblindi, uncertain, as they continued their walk down the bridge. Soon the sound of soldiers walking behind them eased the silence, but she still felt too uneasy.   
      
    Asgard was so quiet, and it was not like the quiet of Jotunheim. She wasn’t certain she liked it quite yet.  
      
    After what seemed an eternity, she began to hear the first rumble of noise other than the soldiers, barely a murmur. Then as they got closer to the castle, the noise grew and grew until it shook the bridge. The clearing in front of the palace, then, was where everyone had gathered, and they did not cheer until they saw their king and princes.   
      
    Hundreds of Aesir filled the clearing and suddenly she could not take another step. She tried but her feet refused to move again, her legs solid ice. They hadn’t yet seen her or Helblindi, their gaze focused intently on their triumphant king. She wanted to keep it that way. Just disappear and let none of them see her.   
      
    But it couldn’t be that way. She had made her choice and now it was time to handle the consequences of it. Which meant presenting herself into a crowd of her enemies, like some sort of war trophy.   
      
    Ignoring her heart beating wildly in her chest, she took a deep breath to steady herself and then stepped forward. Slowly the voices died out as the Aesir began to notice her and Helblindi. Smiles and happy faces soon fell into confused, shocked or disgusted expressions, and the air thickened with the same tension that she felt in Laufey’s throne room not hours before.   
      
    The Allfather stood at the front of the palace with a tall, proud woman by his side. She had a kind demeanor and Sigyn immediately liked her warmth. His son went to stand next to the golden woman. The Allfather made a quick motion with his hand and Sigyn took it as a sign to join him. After hesitating only a moment, she did, though she stayed at the bottom of the steps leading up to the palace doors. Helblindi stood beside her, glaring at every Aesir who met his gaze. She kept her sight forward yet again, out to the bridge and the soldiers lining up on it.   
      
    “We have won the war with Jotunheim,” the Allfather began after a moment. “The Jotnar fought bravely and valiantly, but we pushed them back into the heart of their own city and there defeated them once again.” The Aesir cheered yet again, though this time it was duller, muted, and she knew it was because of them. It made her want to shrink in on herself, curl up, but she kept her stance straight and tall. “I never wished for another war with Jotunheim,” he continued, and she stiffened a little.   
      
    _Then why did you make the first attack?_  
      
    “I grieve for every person we lost on both sides and how needless their deaths were. In order to ensure that this peace will last, however, Laufey and I created a new truce and struck a new bargain. We have taken two of their kind with us and left two of our kind with them, as we did in Vanaheim.”   
      
    _What a kind way of saying you have taken us hostage._   
      
    “Helblindi, the eldest son of Laufey,” and the crowd turned their hard stares on him, the loathing clear on their faces. “And Laufey’s ward, the daughter of his wife’s sister.” It was only then she realized he had never asked for her name, as had no one else. She was just the ward, the hostage, the token to make sure peace would never be broken again.   
      
    Sigyn swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat and kept herself from clenching her fists. Just a little while longer and she’d hopefully be left alone.  
      
    “With them we have left two of our finest generals; Agmundr--” A woman’s voice cried out somewhere in the crowd and a shocked murmur followed. The Allfather went on, undisturbed, “and Einar.” Another shocked cry and the Aesir’s voices rose higher, threatening to overtake the Allfather’s. “They will do well in Jotunheim,” he continued, raising his voice only a little. It was enough to make the people silent again, however. “They will help us preserve the peace and open up new pathways between our two kingdoms, so that war will never come about again.”  
      
    It was a good speech, she supposed. It was also mostly a lie. He had chosen the war generals because, should her people turn on them, they had a good chance of surviving until help could arrive. They could fight off their attackers. Helblindi, too, would likely be able to fend for himself should things go wrong here.  
      
    Herself? Well. She wasn’t certain. But she was not as important or consequential as the other three were. She would be the last one they went for in an attack, she hoped.   
      
    “Rejoin with your loved ones,” the Allfather said, “and tomorrow we will feast to the new beginning.”  
      
    The Aesir managed a happier cheer that time, and she felt the need to run away from it all, into some place quiet where she could be alone from all those stares. Before she could react, she heard a loud cough behind her and turned quickly. A new woman stood behind her, golden hair pulled away from her face and a simple black dress covering her body. She wondered how they could stand to be covered so, especially in this warmth. She had bright blue eyes, almost the colour of ice and just as cold as they stared at her.    
      
    “Hello,” the woman said slowly, as if she thought Sigyn couldn’t understand the warrior tongue. “I am Dagný. Follow me.”  
      
    Sigyn did as she was told, seeing Helblindi being taken off by men in simple black robes. She worried for a moment, but she could do nothing to help him if he needed it. She allowed herself to be led away from the Allfather and the voices of the soldiers and into the quiet of the palace. It was relatively cooler in there, not by much, but enough that she let out a small sigh. She followed Dagný, who walked briskly through the golden halls, until they stopped before a golden door with etchings on it. “This will be your chamber,” Dagný said, not even looking at her.   
      
    “Chamber?” she said, her voice quiet.   
      
    “Yes,” Dagný gave her a sidelong glance, a hint of suspicion and distrust in her look, before turning back to the door and opening it. “Where you will sleep and stay.”  
      
    “Oh,” she said, fidgeting awkwardly. She had shared a room with several other of her clanswomen in Jotunheim, Angrboda and Áslaug and Myrgjöl and so many others. It had been uncomfortable at times, but she could not imagine falling asleep without the sounds of their even breathing and Angrboda holding her hand. “Thank you,” she finally managed. Dagný simply gave her a short, piercing look, then motioned her to go inside.  
      
    She did slowly, giving a wary glance over at the fire that helped light the room. Small seating places surrounded the fire and she made a note to move them as soon as possible. Several small windows lined the wall opposite her, and she strode over to one. A view of Asgard and the sea greeted her, along with the cosmos, and she decided she liked it. A long thing with a mirror atop it stood next to a ridiculously large sleeping mat, which was raised up off the ground and far softer than any sleeping mat she’d ever felt.   
      
    She sat down on the sleeping mat and looked around her chamber. The fire cast shadows on the walls, making her a little nervous, but otherwise...   
      
    Well, it would never be home, but she would simply have to get used to it. And it was more than she’d expected, anyway. “Thank you,” she said again to Dagný, but when she turned, the woman was gone and the door was closed. Sealed, most likely, so she did not bother to go over and open it.  
      
    She sat there for a long while before falling back onto the sleeping mat, which cushioned her nicely. She stared up at the ceiling and listened to the fire crackle, and then she turned on her side and curled up without bothering to take off her breast cover or skirt.   
      
    No one had asked her name, no one had looked at her kindly or with any kind of compassion, and now Asgard, the home of her enemies, was to be her home as well. Until she died. She would never see Jotunheim again, nor her friends or the scant remains of her family. It had been her choice, yes, but that did not stop it from hurting as badly as it did.  
      
    Sigyn did not cry often and when she did, it was not for very long. But she allowed herself to cry then, and she cried so hard her body wracked with it, her voice keening and tearing out of her throat, until she fell into a restless sleep.


	2. The Ladies of Asgard

Sigyn woke with a shriek and fell off the side of the mat, landing hard on the ground. She blinked several times, trying to get the shapes of the windows out of her eyes, then rubbed at them. The light shining through them had gotten brighter, far too bright for her, who had been used to the soft glow of Jotunheim. Hissing, she waited until the ache subsided and then slowly opened her eyes, blinking again as she saw how the light made the gold of Asgard gleam.   
      
    And it was hot. Sigyn groaned when she noticed the heat and how it clung to her skin, making it uncomfortably warm. The fire had long since gone out, leaving the smell of burnt things in the stifling air of her chamber. She wrinkled her nose at it, hating the taste it left on the back of her throat.   
      
    Her eyes slowly got used to the brightness of the sunlight, though it still stung and made them water. It wasn’t as blinding as it had been when she’d woken up, however, and she hoped maybe eventually she’d get used to it. She didn’t have much other choice.   
      
    Before she could do anything else, her chamber door opened slowly and Dagný came striding in. The woman rose a brow when she saw Sigyn on the floor. “If you don’t sleep on beds,” she said after a moment, “tell us so it may prove useful to someone else.”  
      
    Face burning in anger and shame, Sigyn stood quickly. “I did sleep on it,” she said quietly. True, she’d often slept on the cold floors of Laufey’s castle, on top of a thin mat woven together from the skin of beasts. She didn’t know she could be made to feel ashamed or wrong for it, though. “I fell off.”  
      
    Dagný poked at the fire pit with a heavy looking metal stick, not giving Sigyn the merest sign she’d heard her. “Make yourself presentable,” she said, a small pause in front of the last word. “The Queen wishes to see you.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. “The Queen?”  
      
    “Yes, Queen Frigga. She wishes to meet with you.” Dagný finished poking the fire with a satisfied nod and set the stick aside. She turned to look at Sigyn, who simply stared back. “Well?”  
      
    “How am I not... presentable?” The word fell clumsily off her tongue.   
      
    It was Dagný’s turn to stare blankly. “You’ve no clothes on!” she exclaimed after an uneasy moment.   
      
    “I do!” Sigyn said, looking down at herself and seeing nothing amiss. “These are my only clothes.”  
      
    “Valhalla above,” Dagný muttered, shaking her had. “Never mind, we cannot keep the Queen waiting. Follow me.” She turned and briskly walked out of the room, Sigyn following after a confused second. The chamber door closed itself behind her, startling her, but she had no time to focus on it as Dagný was already quite a ways ahead of her and showed no indication she would slow down. Sigyn ran to catch up with her, footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor.   
      
    As they walked, Sigyn thought on the Queen. A small sliver of nervousness took root in her middle. What would the Aesir Queen be like? They had little to no stories of her in Jotunheim, not like they did of Odin and his sons. Her _sons_ , Sigyn thought. _They are_ her _sons, too, not only Odin’s sons._   
      
    Would she be like her King, terrible and cruel? Or would she be more like Farbauti, with a hidden kindness underneath a strong, rock solid surface? Sigyn had plenty of time to wonder about it; it seemed to take ages to reach the meeting area. When they finally did, her lungs ached from breathing in the hot Asgardian air and she fought to even her breathing out.  
      
    “Wait here,” Dagný ordered, then moved over to the golden door which opened at her approach. She disappeared inside the room, out of Sigyn’s line of sight, leaving the Jotun standing in the corridor awkwardly.   
      
    _At least there is no bright sun here_ , Sigyn thought. Her eyes still stung.  
      
    Dagný appeared a moment later and motioned Sigyn over. “The Queen will see you now,” she said, and Sigyn hesitantly went forward into the chamber. More sunlight hit her eyes and made her cringe, but it was not as much of a shock that time.   
      
    “Hello,” a kind, warm voice said, and Sigyn turned to see the Queen sitting in a large golden chair. More chairs were scattered around the chamber, as well as a large flat thing like the one she had in her own room, only the Queen’s was covered with thin papers and long, skinny black sticks. Another fire pit stood in the middle of the room, thankfully unlit, and there were baskets full of colourful cloths and other things. The Queen smiled when she saw Sigyn looking around and motioned for her to come closer. “Please, don’t be shy. What’s your name?”  
      
    She paused. “S-Sigyn.”   
      
    “Sigyn,” the Queen said. “It is wonderful to meet you, Sigyn.”  
      
    _Well,_ Sigyn thought, _I suppose so, situations being what they are..._ “It is nice to meet you too, Queen Frigga.”  
      
    “None of that,” Frigga said firmly. “Just call me ‘Frigga’. I am not your Queen.”  
      
    Sigyn shifted uncomfortably. “But you are _a_ Queen, and Asgard is to be my home now, so you _are_ my Queen.”  
      
    “I will accept nothing less than you simply calling me Frigga,” she said, kind eyes sparkling with amusement. Sigyn relaxed a little and, after a pause, nodded.  
      
    “Frigga,” she said politely, managing a small smile. “Dagný said you wanted to see me?”  
      
    “I did,” Frigga said. “I would have come to greet you last night, but there were many other things to attend to as the soldiers came home.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at her in surprise. “It is fine,” she said. “You had the Allfather and your sons to see again.”  
      
    “Well,” Frigga said, giving her a pondering look, “I still should have come to see you at least briefly. I’m sure it was frightening, being here.” Sigyn stayed silent, uncertain as to how to respond to such a remark. When Frigga saw she wouldn’t speak up, she continued. “No matter. I hope you can make yourself comfortable here, Sigyn. I suspect Asgard will seem very strange to you at first, but I hope that, with time, you will grow to be happy here. What you did was very brave and you’ve opened up many possibilities for the Jotnar. That will not go unrewarded.”  
      
    Sigyn merely stared at her. The Queen meant well, she could tell, but the words were wrong. She, however, could not say such a thing, so instead chose the path of least trouble. “Thank you, Frigga,” she said quietly, bowing her head. “That is a comfort.”  
      
    Frigga frowned, ever so slightly. “They will come to accept you, in time,” she said reassuringly. “That is the point of all this, after all. For our two realms to find peace with each other, after centuries of hatred.”  
      
    _Centuries of hatred would be hard to kill,_ Sigyn thought. “I hope it succeeds,” she murmured.   
      
    “It will,” Frigga said, with a confidence Sigyn did not share. She smiled at Sigyn. “I hope you wouldn’t mind joining me for breakfast, would you?”  
      
    Sigyn looked up in surprise. “You would want that?”  
      
    “I would,” Frigga said with a nod. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”  
      
    “I am,” Sigyn admitted. She wondered how the other Aesir would take their Queen sharing a meal with a Jotun. Perhaps it would not be seen as unusual. In Jotunheim, sharing a meal with someone was a way of welcoming them into your clan or family. It was one of the ways to show trust. She wondered if the Queen knew that. “Although, my Qu--Frigga? Might I ask you something?”  
      
    “Of course, child.”  
      
    “Is Helblindi well? I have not seen him since last night, and I... I wanted to make certain he was fine.”   
      
    Frigga was silent for a moment before saying, “I have already seen your--brother, is he?”  
      
    “No. He is Laufey’s son, I am his wife-sister daughter.”   
      
    “Cousins, then,” Frigga said with a nod. “I have already seen him this morning, and he is fine. In a foul temper, but I didn’t expect much else.” She paused, then added, “Though, interestingly, he did not ask after you.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, at a loss. Of course he wouldn’t have. Helblindi had never much cared for her. He took after Laufey in that way. “He must have other things on his mind.”   
      
    “Perhaps,” Frigga said. “Sit down and I will have Dagný bring us our meal. And then, well, perhaps it will be time to meet the others.”  
      
    “O-others?” There was a tremble of fear in her voice and Frigga noticed it.  
      
    “Oh, my dear, it will be fine,” Frigga said soothingly. “The others are the other ladies. Freyja, Eir, Lofn, Nanna... the last two are about your age, I suspect,” Frigga said, looking Sigyn over once. “Perhaps they will help you become accustomed to Asgard and Gladsheim.”  
      
    Sigyn said nothing, simply sitting down and trying not to show any fear. She was a Jotun; they did not show _fear_. At least, that was what she’d always been told. “That would be good,” Sigyn said, trying to keep her tone even. As Frigga walked away to call on Dagný, Sigyn tried to think out how the day had gone so far. When she’d stepped forward to be a hostage, she hadn’t thought it would be quite like... this. She had expected the Aesir to lock her away in some dark cave, never to be seen or heard again.   
      
    It’d been maybe a little unrealistic, but she would not have expected much else from them.   
      
    Frigga returned some time later, sitting next to Sigyn, and they continued their conversation while they waited and throughout their meal. The food was strange and unfamiliar to Sigyn; brightly coloured round things that were soft and far too sweet for her liking, meat with a strange feel and taste to it, and a red drink that tasted like snow-water with something mixed into it. It wasn’t horrid, but it was certainly a little odd. Sigyn picked up a piece of the sweet, soft and crunchy golden fruit that was on her plate. It was a welcome coolness to the hot air that surrounded her.  
      
    “Idunn’s apples,” Frigga said with a smile as Sigyn chewed slowly. “The finest in all of Asgard.”  
      
    “Idunn,” she said. “I thought her apples were what made you immortal?”  
      
    “A fine tale,” Frigga said, “but untrue.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, then took another piece, studying it. She’d never heard or seen apples before; she’d thought them some kind of potion the Aesir drank to keep their immortality. Now that she held a piece of one in her hand, she had to admit the idea that they could grant such a thing was rather unbelievable. Not impossible if one mixed it with something, but she doubted Idunn did such a thing. The Aesir hated magic.   
      
    The thought made Sigyn tense a little, remember who she was and where she was. She ate her piece slowly, hoping to hold off on meeting the other Aesir women as long as possible. Unfortunately their meal soon ended and Frigga had Sigyn stand up as Dagný took their eating tools away.   
      
    “Have you nothing else to wear?” Frigga asked, eyeing Sigyn.   
      
    “These are my only clothes,” Sigyn said, wondering how often she was going to be asked that. Seeing how Dagný and Frigga dressed--or, truly, how the rest of the Aesir dressed--they seemed to dislike showing off their skin or bodies. Frigga’s clothes flowed mostly away from her body, and the men wore clothes similar to hers. Compared to them, Sigyn did feel a little bare in her simple breast cover and skirt. “I was taken away quickly, and had no time to prepare.”  
      
    Frigga smiled and put a hand on Sigyn’s arm, making her stiffen a little. “No worries,” she said. “We will have the dressmakers prepare you some clothes.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said after a moment. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to wear clothing like theirs. She’d made her clothes herself, and they were a little tattered, yes, they were still hers and the only things she had from Jotunheim. “May I still keep these?”  
      
    Frigga rose her brow in surprise. “Of course you may.”  
      
    “Thank you.” Before she could say anything else, the chamber door opened and a myriad of voices reached them before the women did. They walked into the chamber in two and threes, some laughing with each other and others talking with large smiles on their faces. An ache pierced her heart as she thought of Angrboda and the rest, and the time she’d spent with them in much a similar way.  
      
    The laughter and smiles died down quickly once they saw who stood beside Frigga. Sigyn wished she could run and hide, but stood where she was, watching as they looked between her and Frigga uncertainly.   
      
    “I’d like for you all to give Sigyn a warm welcome,” Frigga said. “And I hope you would be agreeable to having her join us during our mornings here.” When no one immediately spoke up, Frigga continued. “I know things will be tense, but she is part of Asgard now and a guest of the royal family. Therefore we must treat her as our own.”  
      
    “I have no argument with it,” said a woman with long red hair, the likes of which Sigyn had never seen. She hadn’t even known hair could come in that colour. The woman was beautiful and, when she gazed at Sigyn, her blue eyes held no hint of disgust or unease. Sigyn found this somewhat heartening.   
      
    “She’s rather tiny,” said a woman with brown hair, glancing Sigyn over with obvious dislike in her eyes. “For a Frost _Giant_.”  
      
    Sigyn tensed, as did Frigga beside her. She was taller by mere inches than most of the women in the room, but it was true, in Jotunheim, she didn’t even come up to Laufey’s waist, and her body was built smaller. Weaker, it was said by many. “I am a...” She tried to recall the word for it in the Aesir tongue, but could not. “Småen.”  
      
    “We do not speak your language,” the brown haired woman all but sneered.   
      
    “Runt,” the red haired woman said. “I think she means to say she is a runt, Eydis.”  
      
    “Runt,” Sigyn said quietly, wishing she could disappear. “Yes.”  
      
    “Have you any other keen observations you’d like to contribute to the group?” the red haired woman said, giving Eydis a bright smile. “Or shall we get on with our morning?”  
      
    “Yes, I think we should all sit down and continue our work,” Frigga said, a little too quickly, and Sigyn was all too glad to sit back down. She resisted the urge to fold in on herself, feeling dirty and ashamed at having called herself what was usually spit out by the other Jotnar as an insult. Eydis, she noted, sat as far away from her as possible, and the red haired woman took the next next to Sigyn. The other Aesir women retrieved the baskets full of things and took their seats, some eyeing Sigyn nervously and others refusing to look at her altogether.  
      
    “My Queen,” Sigyn said quietly, leaning towards Frigga as she pulled out a white cloth and some tiny coloured strings, “maybe I should leave you alone? Return to my chamber?”  
      
    Frigga blinked in surprise, then another emotion flitted across her features. Before Sigyn could see what it was, Frigga smiled. “Of course not, my dear. We cannot have you locked away in there all day, can we? Asgard is your home now, as I said before, and that means you will be welcomed into our gathering and will find friends here.”  
      
    Sigyn pulled away, deciding not to say anything, and looked around at the group. She spotted who she assumed Frigga wished to be her friends; two girls, indeed looking as if they were near her age, sitting close together and murmuring with each other. She had sat like that with Angrboda, once. Now she never felt more alone, looking at what she once had and would never have again.   
      
    “Where is Eir?” Frigga asked after a moment, once everyone had settled.   
      
    “She was awake all night, tending to the soldiers,” said one woman with blonde hair. “For all I know she is there still. I don’t think she will be joining us today.”  
      
    “Ah,” Frigga said with a small nod. “I should pay her a visit later, to make certain she’s doing well.”  
      
    A woman who commanded the healing of warriors? That was one very little thing Jotunheim and Asgard had in common, then. Her mother had helped with such things and had taught her how to do so as well, until she died. Sigyn had been in the healing wards every day during the war, saving those she could. She hadn’t been able to just sit by and do nothing. Healing had suited her and she loved it, even during the days when she lost her fellow kinsmen--and there had been many of those days. Far too many.   
      
    Sigyn watched as the women began pulling the coloured strings through their white cloths or through large pieces of fabric. It came to her, suddenly, how she was very obviously not doing the same. She glanced around, but no one looked up at her, focused on their work.  
      
    Was this what Aesir women did all day? How _boring_.   
      
    “Dull, isn’t it?” the red haired woman murmured to her. Sigyn jumped, then looked around, certain to find everyone glaring at her. But she had spoken so quietly that no one, involved in their work as they were, noticed. “I fear Frigga wishes to teach you to do the same,” she continued. “Teach you all the good Aesir ways.”  
      
    _And when,_ Sigyn wondered, _would she ask me to teach her all the Jotnar ways?_   
      
    “Freyja,” the woman said at length, looking up from her cloth. “Freyja Njordsdottir.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. She’d heard of Freyja. Many of her kinsmen had wanted to marry her and had sometimes attempted to kidnap her, all for her beauty. Sigyn could see why; she was quite beautiful in the Vanir way. And she, too, had been forced from her home by the Aesir.   
      
    “Sigyn, your name was?” Freyja asked after a moment.  
      
    “Yes,” she said with a nod.   
      
    “I am sorry,” Freyja said, meeting her gaze head on. “For everything that has happened to you, I am so, so sorry.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at her, wide eyed and mouth agape, before recovering. “I... there is nothing to be sorry for. I did what I must. I do not regret that.”  
      
    “Did what you must,” Freyja repeated slowly. “Yes, I suppose you did. How brave you must be.”  
      
    Not as brave as one would think. She had trembled in fear in Laufey’s throne room, before the Allfather and the rest. It had taken everything in her not to let that same tremble into her voice. She had been afraid, so afraid, and she still was. No, she was not brave. Not at all.   
      
    “Sigyn, darling,” Frigga said, interrupting their conversation. “Come here. I would like to show you something.”  
      
    Sigyn did as she was bade and knelt down by the side of the Queen’s chair. In Frigga’s lap rested a long green dress, the skirt’s hem of which she was decorating with the coloured string. The string created shapes into the skirt, flowers and swirls and other things, all different colours. “It is beautiful,” Sigyn said, uncertain as to what the Queen wanted.  
      
    “Thank you,” Frigga said. “The summer festivals will be taking place in a few months time, and it is custom for an Aesir woman to embroider her own dress for the occasions. Of course the dressmakers make the clothing for us first, but the rest is all our own work.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said. “That is good.”  
      
    “Would you like to learn?” Frigga said, and Sigyn glanced up at her, tensing.   
      
    “I know how to... sew,” she said, “a little.”  
      
    “Embroidery is not quite the same as sewing,” Frigga said. “Here, you can sit and watch me for today, hm?”  
      
    Seeing no other option, Sigyn sat down and watched as the Queen’s fingers worked over the fabric with the small silver needle and string. She glanced over at Freyja, who stared at her with a saddened look on her face, before turning back to the Queen.  
      
    No, this had not been what she’d expected at all. She wasn’t certain if she liked it more than being locked in a cave for the rest of her days.  
      
    The morning soon ended and Sigyn watched as the Aesir women packed away their things and returned the baskets to their places. “What happens now?” Sigyn asked Freyja.  
      
    “We join with the men,” she said. “For the midday meal.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said. “Then I must return to my chamber?”  
      
    Freyja opened her mouth to say something, then stopped when Frigga came up behind Sigyn. “Of course not, dear,” Frigga said. “You will join us for the meal, meet with the other Aesir, and you will dine with us tonight at supper.”  
      
    Sigyn fidgeted nervously. “I--”  
      
    “Surely not dressed like that?” Eydis spoke up, coming over. “Baring her skin for all to see? She will make a spectacle of herself, and not a good one.”  
      
    “Eydis, the only reason she would be a spectacle is because the others would turn her into one,” Freyja said, a hint of irritation trickling into her voice. “Just as you’re doing now.”  
      
    Eydis glared at Freyja. “Says the woman who lives off making a spectacle of herself. No, the girl must wear something more covering.”  
      
    “I have already instructed the dressmakers to prepare her something,” Frigga said calmly. “And then after the midday meal I will take her there to be measured and to choose fabrics for her. She will have plenty of dresses by the month’s end.”  
      
    “I should hope so,” Eydis said. “We cannot have her walking around naked.”  
      
    Sigyn hunched over a little. She could not understand the problem with her clothing, and to stand there while the three women argued over her or talked for her as if she did not exist at all... it was humiliating. She wished she could run all the way back to her chamber and hide, but she couldn’t risk angering the Queen. She had come to build peace, not worsen the ties between the Jotnar and the Aesir.   
      
    “Enough, Eydis,” Frigga said firmly. The other woman quieted immediately. “She will be taken care of. Thank you for voicing your concerns. I will see you at the feasting table.”  
      
    Eydis frowned, clearly wishing to say more, but simply bowed and then turned to leave.   
      
    “I usually appreciate a woman who speaks her mind,” Freyja said, “but she needs to stop speaking hers. At the very least not so much and with all forced to listen.”  
      
    Frigga tried to hide her smile but failed. “She’ll come around in time,” she said. “Eydis has always hated change.”  
      
    “As you say, my Queen,” Freyja said with a bow of her head. “I wonder, are you looking for one of the ladies to help Sigyn around?”  
      
    “I am,” Frigga said, and Sigyn decided to sit down and let them continue talking about her. She was obviously not part of the conversation, despite the fact that she was standing there with them and the topic was about her. “I was thinking of Lofn and Nanna. They seem to all be of the same age.”  
      
    “Sigyn,” Freyja said, making her jump, “how old are you?”  
      
    “I--I was born near the end of the last great war.”  
      
    “The same age as Loki,” Freyja said. “Lofn and Nanna are a bit younger.”  
      
    “I think it will do you good to be with them,” Frigga said to Sigyn. “They’re lovely girls.”  
      
    Freyja paused, then turned to Sigyn. “Would you be opposed to having me be your friend? You can still have Nanna and Lofn, of course, but if you’ll accept me I would gladly accompany you throughout Asgard.”  
      
    “I, um,” Sigyn stuttered, at a loss. “If the Queen allows it...?” She cast a questioning look over to Frigga.  
      
    “Of course I would,” Frigga said after a pause, with a wide smile that looked a little too forced. “The more friends you have, the better. But I’ll still ask Lofn and Nanna to accompany you as well.”  
      
    Sigyn merely nodded. “Thank you.”  
      
    “Come, dear,” Frigga said. “We must prepare you for the midday meal.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard and stood, joining Frigga’s side, then stopped. “Frigga,” she said, “would it be okay for me to not attend this meal? I--I do not feel much like eating.”  
      
    Frigga frowned, looking at her with obvious concern. “Are you well?”  
      
    “I am a little warm,” Sigyn admitted.  
      
    “Let her go, my Queen,” Freyja said. “She needs her rest, after all. She can attend supper.”  
      
    “Well,” Frigga said, sounding uncertain, then nodded. “Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t force you to go. Here, let me call for Dagný to help you back.”  
      
    “Thank you.”  
      
    Freyja came up to her as Frigga left. “Stay strong, brave girl,” she said quietly, so quiet Sigyn almost hadn’t heard her. They were alone in the room now that Frigga had gone, but Sigyn could not bring herself to relax or ease the tension in her shoulders. She looked at Freyja questioningly. “It doesn’t ever really get easier, and it certainly won’t for you. But know this: If you ever need someone--a friend, an ally, or just a shoulder to cry on--whatever you need, I will be there.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at her, not knowing what to say, and then Frigga returned with Dagný trailing behind her. “Thank you.” She had said that many times that day, and that was maybe the first time she had actually, truly meant it.   
      
    “I’ll see you tonight,” Freyja said, moving past Frigga and Dagný and out the door. Sigyn gave Frigga a bow and said her goodbyes, then followed Dagný out into the corridor. They walked in silence, Dagný walking just as briskly as she had before, and soon enough Sigyn was breathing hard in the warm air.  
      
    This time, however, Dagný seemed to notice. She looked over her shoulder once and then turned away, but she slowed her steps so Sigyn did not have to walk so fast to keep up. It was a small thing and certainly not something she should be thanked for, but Sigyn was grateful all the same. Any crumbs of kindness were better than nothing.  
      
    “I will come and get you when it is time for supper,” Dagný said as they approached her chamber. “And I will bring your dress.”  
      
    Sigyn merely nodded and went inside, knowing Dagný did not wish to be around her any longer than she had to. When the door did not immediately close behind her, Sigyn turned to find Dagný still standing there, staring at her. She looked ready to say something more, then shook her head a little and stepped back. “If you need anything else, call for me.”  
      
    The door closed and Sigyn sighed. No fire was lit and the sun was no longer shining into her room, but it was still too warm. Getting an idea, Sigyn went over to a wall and placed a hand on it. After a moment’s hesitation, she willed frost and ice to her fingertips and palm. The familiar and comforting crackle of ice greeted her, and she pushed it further until it grew quickly on the wall.   
      
    Soon the entire chamber was covered with a heavy dusting of frost, chilling it. It was still not as cold as Jotunheim, but no longer did Sigyn have to fight for breath or feel the heat stick to her skin.   
      
    Sigyn smiled, frost still on her fingertips, and felt the tension between her shoulders ease just slightly.


	3. A Pond in the Castle

“Valhalla above.”   
      
    Sigyn jumped and spun around to see Dagný walking into her chamber. She’d been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard the chamber door open. Dagný looked around in wide eyed shock at the frost that still covered everything, her breath coming out in faint white puffs. Sigyn carefully wiped out what she had traced into the frost on her floor and stood.  
      
    “I was warm,” she said quietly. “I did not think anyone would care.”  
      
    Dagný gave her an incredulous look before shaking her head slightly. “Follow me,” Dagný said, then turned to leave before Sigyn could say anything.   
      
    She followed along, already missing the cold of her frost. They walked for a ways down the same path they’d taken to the Queen’s sitting chamber, past other servants who cast wary glances at Sigyn before looking away hurriedly. Sigyn did her best to keep her head high and her spine straight, even when all she wanted was to disappear completely.  
      
    Finally they reached a chamber door and Sigyn peered around Dagný to see where they were.   
      
    The damp, hot air hit her face first and she reeled away from it with a low groan. It felt like the hot water springs scattered about Jotunheim that she sometimes went to with the others. Only hotter and wetter. Dagný cast her a glance and then stepped in. Sigyn stayed put, staring into the chamber. She couldn’t see much for the steam, though as that slowly cleared the chamber began to be visible. More Aesir servants like Dagný poured bottles of liquid into a large pond in the middle of the room. Fire burned in a pit high above the pond, hanging from the ceiling. There were other things scattered about, including some sort of small piece of wall in a corner.   
      
    _They have a pond in their castle,_ Sigyn thought. _A pond. In their castle._   
      
    “You need to bathe before the feast tonight,” Dagný said. “Come in, we’re already running behind.”  
      
    “But,” Sigyn said, “it is hot.”  
      
    “It’s not that hot,” Dagný argued. “And Queen Frigga has given permission for you to use her personal bathing chamber, so you cannot refuse her.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at her, then down at herself. She was clean enough. True, her feet were dirtied and her black hair was limp, but she didn’t feel the overwhelming need to bathe just yet. Still, if Frigga had ordered it done... Sigyn paused, then hesitantly walked in. The wet clung to her skin, worse than the normal Asgardian air, and Sigyn feared she would suffocate on it. The chamber door closed behind her and small windows opened up, allowing some of the steam to leave.   
      
    “First we must bathe you,” Dagný said, motioning for the other girls to join her. “Then prepare your hair, then dress you, and then it’s down to the feasting hall with the others.”  
      
    “I--” Sigyn began, then stopped. “Okay,” she said after a moment, pushing past the girls and approaching the pond. Thick steam rose off of it and the sickly sweet smell of something--some kind of Asgardian flower?--filled her nose and mouth, nearly making her gag. She couldn’t see how deep it was and that caused a shiver to crawl up her spine. Still, she undressed and let her clothing fall to the floor. A girl came up behind her and picked them up, a barely hidden scowl on her face. Sigyn tried to ignore her as best she could and stared down at the water again.   
      
    _What if they’re going to drown me?_  
      
    “It’s fine,” Dagný said, a note of exasperation in her voice. “Get on with it.”  
      
    Trembling, Sigyn lifted her foot and put it into the water. She grit her teeth against the burning and slowly lowered herself into the water until it came up to her shoulders. Sigyn simply stayed where she was for a moment, closing her eyes, and slowly her body got used to the heat. It wasn’t as hot as she’d feared, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable.  
      
    Still, she took a deep breath and submerged herself, the water rushing over her head. She stayed under for a moment before going back up, pushing her hair back from her face.   
      
    “How long must I stay in?” she asked, turning to Dagný, who held a bottle in her hands.  
      
    “Come here,” Dagný said. “We need to make sure you’re clean.”  
      
    “I was clean already,” Sigyn muttered under her breath, but returned to the steps on the outer edge of the pond. She sat down as Dagný instructed, staring out at the pond, when she felt something lukewarm and slimy on her back. She tensed and turned around. “What are you--?”  
      
    “It’s soap,” Dagný explained, rubbing it into her skin. Sigyn pulled away quickly, nearly slipping, and sank back down into the water. Dagný looked at her like she had two heads. “Come back here. You need to be washed.”  
      
    “I can do it myself,” Sigyn said, skin crawling. She held her hands out for the soap, not noticing how everyone had turned to stare at her until a moment later. “What?”  
      
    “We just thought--never mind,” Dagný said, handing the soap to her and walking away. Sigyn stared after her, confused, then set about washing her skin. She scrubbed until it felt raw, then began making her way out of the pond. Either it had grown colder or her body had warmed to it, but either way, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been. Her body felt heavy with the water as she pulled herself out and all she wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep.  
      
    “Wait,” Dagný said, stopping her. “Your hair.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. “Yes?”  
      
    Dagný very obviously tried her best not to look exasperated. “Sit down, it needs washed as well.”  
      
    “I don’t envy Dagný that job,” one girl said to another. “She probably has all sorts of bugs in her hair.”  
      
    Sigyn hunched over as she sat down, determinedly not looking over at the girls, and allowed Dagný to scrub her hair until she finally deemed it clean enough. She was then lead over to the small wall by Dagný and one other girl, who held long pieces of white cloth in her arms. Sigyn took them from her and began drying herself off, ignoring the looks she and Dagný gave her. They were soft to the touch, almost like fur, though they dried her fine.   
      
    “This way,” Dagný murmured when she was finished, and she followed the girl towards another chamber door, one she had overlooked before. Inside was a room about as big as her own sleeping chamber, with another reflecting glass and hundreds of different coloured glass bottles and other things Sigyn couldn’t begin to name.   
      
    She was made to sit down in front of the mirror, still wrapped in a white cloth, and it took everything in her not to curl up and fall asleep. The heat of the water had made her drowsy and she yawned while Dagný prepared her things. It helped that the chair was not particularly comfortable, though she had slept on worst.   
      
    Dagný ran a strange, pale thing with what looked like teeth through her hair, pulling gently at the snags and tangles until it was straightened. What followed was a long, arduous process in which Dagný dried her hair and then began styling it, putting it up and down and in curls and then not and doing so many different things with it that Sigyn soon lost track. Finally she seemed to decide on a style, something relatively simple for all the time and effort it took, a single braid down the sides of her head with a few decorations. The rest flowed freely, though slightly curled, past her shoulders and down her back.   
      
    She supposed it looked good. Simply tying it back would have been faster though.   
      
    Another girl walked in soon after her hair had been fixed with a long, flowing dress. It was in shades of pale gold and pink, shining in the firelight. Dagný motioned Sigyn to stand and she did. The towel was taken away and they helped her into odd, thin white clothing that she would have been comfortable in at home, but suspected were not to be worn outside in Asgard. Then, with those in place, they slipped the dress over her head and arms until it rested on her, smooth as ice.  
      
    Finally Dagný turned her around to see herself in the mirror. She stilled once she did, looking herself over carefully. While the dress was smooth against her warmed skin, she could tell she would be hot in it soon. It covered most of her; her arms were bare save for the golden drape that went over her shoulders and covered her chest and back. The pink dress went down to her feet, maybe even a little bit past that, and, along with the draping cloth, covered her chest and back completely. A gold sash of sorts rested on her hips and added more decoration.  
      
    Her blue skin seemed dark against the brightness of the clothing. She was a Jotun in Aesir’s clothing. It was not a good feeling to have.   
      
    “Put your shoes on,” Dagný said, “and then it will be time for supper.”  
      
    Sigyn took one look at the shoes and knew she would hate them. They covered her entire foot and it looked as if her toes would be forced into an uncomfortable wedge. They were, at the very least, flat. She much preferred to go barefoot, though. As the shoes were slipped on and she stood in them for the first time, she missed the feeling of the golden floor under her bare feet.  
      
    “How fortunate it is that you’re small, for a Giant,” Dagný said lightly, looking her over. “Otherwise we may not have had anything to fit you.”  
      
    _How fortunate._   
      
    “Come, it’s time,” Dagný said, walking her out of another doorway that led into the corridor. Sigyn felt off balance, walking in her shoes and hearing her footsteps echo throughout the corridor for the first time since she’d arrived. Add to the fact that the end of the dress kept hitting her feet as she walked and it took her a long while to get used to everything, at least to the point where she wasn’t constantly glancing down at her feet.  
      
    They walked for a ways, and then, slowly, Sigyn began to hear the faintest murmur of voices down the corridor. They got steadily louder as they moved on until finally it was a roar behind a door, laughter and yelling and noise, so loud not even the golden walls of Asgard’s castle could contain it.  
      
    Sigyn tried her best not to tremble.   
      
    Dagný looked her over one last time, nodded once, then the chamber doors opened and Sigyn had her first look at the feasting hall of Asgard.   
      
    She hadn’t seen so many Aesir in one place since the war fields. They sat at the tables, stood by the tables, crowded around the rest of the tall, circular room with markings etched into its walls and floors. They were smiling and hollering and now that she was actually in the room, the sound of it hurt her ears.   
      
    Willing herself to stay calm, Sigyn walked into the room and, after looking at Dagný for some hint of approval, when over to the feasting tables where Odin Allfather and his family sat at the very top.   
      
    The change was shocking. Laughter and smiling faces gave way to murmurs and surprised expressions as she made her way forward. Soon the noise ended completely, with only the murmurs remaining, whispers exchanged between the Aesir as they looked and pointed at her.   
      
    Frigga glanced around at everyone while the Allfather simply kept his gaze on her. It unnerved her, how unreadable his expression was. It made her think there was something lurking underneath that was just waiting to come lashing out. Which, she supposed, was keeping with what she’d heard about him her entire life.   
      
    “Allfather,” Sigyn said, bowing deeply as Dagný had told her to. “My Queen. And my Princes.” She glanced up at his son briefly. He simply stared at her, his face as unreadable as Odin’s but in a different manner. As if he was keeping his thoughts clear of his expression so that no one may see what he was thinking. But there was a spark there, a glint in his green eyes while he stared at her that made her pause. She looked back down and stood up slowly, keeping her gaze to the floor deferentially.   
      
    “Sigyn, darling,” Frigga said warmly, and the sound of footsteps came closer until suddenly Sigyn was enveloped in a hug. “We are so glad you could join us. You look lovely.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said, loud enough for most everyone to hear. “I am happy to be here, my Queen.”  
      
    “Come, join us at the table,” Frigga said, holding out her arm towards an empty chair right beside her. “You must be hungry and we’ve plenty to share.”  
      
    “Thank you.” She was led over and seated. The goddess next to her moved away slightly, a pinched look on her face. Before her laid more food than she’d ever seen. They had feasts often in Jotunheim; in the ruins of their cities and the loss of most of their customs, even their language, the feasts had been an important ritual. They were not held on tables, though. Sigyn glanced at Frigga questioningly, wondering if they truly had so much food to spare that anyone could simply take whatever they wished.  
      
    “Go on,” Frigga said quietly, just as everyone began talking again.  
      
    Sigyn chose a few simple things, the apples mostly, and grudgingly took a small piece of some meat at Frigga’s prompting. She had little appetite, after the bath. In fact the smell of the food and the taste of the spiced drink she had with her made it a little uneasy. She ignored it by looking around the tables and chamber for Helbindi. When she didn’t see him, she turned to Frigga. “My Queen? Where is Helblindi?”  
      
    Frigga frowned a little. “He refused to attend,” she said. “He is staying in his rooms for the time being.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded, holding back a sigh. She knew Helblindi would not go along with what they had to do here. Unlike her, who was trying to do everything perfectly in order to maintain that shaky truce between her kin and the Aesir. Laufey’s eldest son not attending dinner would surely cause a few raised brows. She tried to glance over to the Allfather to see if he was irritated, but could not see past Frigga.   
      
    _I will need to find Helblindi after this,_ she decided, _and have a firm conversation with him._ After all she had given up, she could not see everything put at risk simply because Helblindi refused to meet the expectations. But then, why should we have to?  
      
    Putting aside all thoughts of Helblindi for the time being, Sigyn returned to her meal. She forced as much of it down as she could, though there were a few times she thought she wouldn’t be successful. _What a sight that would be,_ she mused. _The Jotun vomiting on the feasting tables of the Aesir, right next to the Queen and King._ As if they needed more to talk about.  
      
    Every now and then, she glanced over to the other Aesir. It was strange to see them smiling and laughing. In Jotunheim, they would be taking care of their dead and trying to keep everything from falling into further disrepair. There would be no feasts, no singing or laughing, just silence as they mourned their dead and then moved on. The Jotnar did not mourn for long, or at least, that was what she had always been taught. Energy was better spent encouraging anger or revenge. Laufey thought like that.   
      
    Sigyn didn’t quite know what she believed in yet.   
      
    Bringing her attention to the son, she finally realized what had caught her attention: The quiet one was more or less ignored by the others. The only time anyone spoke to him was when Odin or Frigga did, and then when he was done they turned back to their own conversations. He merely focused on his food or, at times, the other Aesir. No one talked to him.   
      
    Just as no one talked to her. She wondered what he’d done to make the Aesir turn against him so. Perhaps, like herself, he’d done nothing. She tried to remember his name. Jotunheim told stories to the children about Thor and his brother and their father, and what they had done to their world. It was meant to terrify them and it did. Her mother had never told her any such stories, and Farbauti refused to speak about the Aesir at all. Still, over the years she’d heard stories--how could she not?  
      
    _Thor and... Thor and... Loki. His name is Loki. Loki the lonely._   
      
    She had been so lost in her own thoughts she didn’t immediately notice when Loki looked up to meet her gaze. When she did, she started a little and quickly turned back to her food. She wouldn’t get into trouble for staring at the prince, would she? She nervously glanced at Frigga and the Allfather, but neither seemed to have noticed. Still, if he brought it up with them...  
      
    Just then, the Allfather rose from his seat. The effect was quicker than when she had walked into the chamber. Everyone fell silent immediately and turned to look at him.   
      
    “Tonight we celebrate the end of a war,” the Allfather began, “and hope for eternal peace to reign this time. We are still mourning our lost, but now is the time to rejoice in the living, and the victories.” A small roar of approval from the crowd before they silenced to let the Allfather continue. “As is tradition, each of the men present here today who fought in the battlefields will share their stories.”   
      
    A shiver went down Sigyn’s spine. _Please do not let this be going where I think it is._  
      
    “Eat and be well, my brothers. You have earned it,” the Allfather said. With that, his speech was done. Certainly not as grand as the one the night before, but somehow it was far more chilling. Another cheering uproar made her jump. She had tensed without realizing it, her entire body taut. They fought over who would go first when someone said, “Should Loki not be the first to go?”  
      
    The room fell quiet. Loki glanced up from his plate, eyes slowly scanning the room to see who had spoken up. When he couldn’t find the person, he gave a smile.   
      
    “I fear I shall have to pass tonight,” he said. “Perhaps some other time.”  
      
    No one argued with him about it. They left him alone and went back to battling to be the first one to speak. Sigyn stared at Loki a long moment, noticing that Frigga also stared at him, before glancing away.  
      
    _Lonely, indeed._  
      
    Soon they decided on a man to speak first--another war general, an older man with gray beginning at the temples of his blonde hair. Sigyn did her best to ignore him, but he commanded the attention of everyone, his voice echoing off the walls of the chamber. And he did not simply tell one tale. He told many, of the various ways he had slain her kin, each more horrifying than the last. When he was finished, the people applauded him. They cheered him on for having killed hundreds, if not thousands, of her kinsmen.   
      
    Then the next man came up and spoke. Then the next. And the next. On and on, until they all started to blur together. At some point, she noticed that Loki stood and begged his leave from the Allfather, who simply nodded. Loki walked off and disappeared into the shadows. She envied him the chance to simply leave the goings on without anyone really noticing. And then she realized how sad it was that no one had, except for her.  
      
    As the stories continued, she gripped the skirt of her dress tightly in her fists until she could take it no more. She nearly jumped out of her chair to leave when a hand found its way onto her shoulder.   
      
    “Good evening, Sigyn, my Queen,” Freyja said quietly so as to not interrupt.  
      
    “Lady Freyja,” Frigga gave her a small nod.   
      
    “My Queen, would you mind terribly if I took Sigyn out? She looks to be in need of some air.”  
      
    Frigga turned to look at Sigyn, a crease between her brow. “Well, yes, of course. I do hope you’re well, my dear.”  
      
    “I am fine,” Sigyn said, lowering her head. “But the air... the air would be appreciated.” She wasn’t entirely certain what the differences in air would be, but any chance to escape the stories was welcome. She stood quietly and followed Freyja out from the crowd, feeling the stares on her all the while, until they passed the last of the fire pits and came out onto the dark balcony. The nighttime sky was glorious above them, and, just like her first night on Asgard, the city shone just as brightly as the stars did.  
      
    _A day_ , Sigyn thought. _I have only been here a_ day. It felt like so much longer.   
      
    She took a deep breath of the night air, which was cooler than the day, and let the breeze brush past her. Her skin was still warm from the bath and, being surrounded by that many people and the fires, had not cooled down any. Her food still threatened to come back up, but taking deep breaths helped a little.  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said to Freyja once she felt a little better.   
      
    “You’re welcome,” Freyja said, swirling her drink around in her goblet. She was wearing a light blue dress that set off her hair and eyes beautifully. Sigyn readjusted the drape around her shoulders--she’d kept messing with it all night, unused to the feeling of it--and hated the way she looked in the Aesir dress. “They did this to my family as well, the days after our war ended. Perhaps I should have left you there to hear it,” Freyja said, looking down into her drink, “as these stories will continue over time, and it never gets easier to hear. But you seemed as if you were ready to run out yourself. I thought I would give you an excuse to.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn repeated, uncertain. Too much had happened in one day and she wasn’t sure how to handle what Freyja had said, so she simply pushed it aside to think on later.   
      
    “I’ll leave you be for a while,” Freyja said. “No doubt you’ve been surrounded by people since you arrived. Some time alone will likely be good for you. I’ll be nearby if you have need of me, however.”  
      
    Sigyn merely nodded and Freyja walked off, leaving her alone in the darkness with the sounds of the feasting going on behind her. Sigyn leaned on the balcony wall, closing her eyes and letting herself relax. So this was to be her life now. Mornings with the Queen, spent learning about how to be a good Aesir woman. Her days devoted to being with Freyja or the other two girls Frigga had suggested. And then the nights spent listening to their tales of conquest and murder while she sat quietly in her chair, made to listen to every story.  
      
    All while being dressed like them.   
      
    Holding back tears, Sigyn stood straight again and willed herself to calm down. She had expected this. She knew it would happen. Knowing and actually _living_ it, however, were two very different things.  
      
    The air was not helping as much as she had wanted or needed. Her head had felt light all evening, since the bath, but now it was worse. Her heart began pounding, so hard she could feel the pulse in her chest, making it seem as if it was about to burst out of her body. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps until suddenly her stomach lurch and supper returned on her, staining her dress.   
  
    She turned away from the balcony wall just as her eyes blurred, the cosmos becoming a swirl of disorienting colour, and then she fell, hitting the floor hard. She laid there for a second, trying to get back up, but her vision soon went to black, the voices of the Aesir fading away to nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have a proper introduction for Loki, I promise.


	4. The Different

Sigyn woke to the feeling of something soft and wonderfully cold on her forehead. Groaning a little, she shifted and found herself on her sleeping mat. A few weak rays of sunlight filtered in through the windows, telling her it was only just beginning to be dawn. Her fire pit was empty, which meant her room was almost comfortably cool.  
      
    There was a small goblet by her mat and when she touched it, she was surprised to find it cold. She downed it all in one go, desperate to wash the foul taste out of her mouth. Once she was done Sigyn set it down and then pushed herself up into a sitting position. The soft cold thing fell from her forehead and landed with a heavy thump on her lap. It was a small, wet white cloth. She picked it back up and rubbed it over her skin, sighing at the coolness. Someone had taken her out of her Aesir dress and put her in a simple thin one that hung loosely on her.  
      
     _How long was I asleep?_ she wondered. _I was at the feast, then at the balcony, and then..._ The rest was black. _I suppose I did end up making a sight for the Aesir after all,_ she thought with a grim smile.  
      
    The chamber door opened then and a tall, proud looking woman walked in. Her blond hair was pulled tightly from her face and kept in a simple ball at the back of her head. Her gaze was very direct, causing Sigyn to shrink a little once she directed it at her.  
      
    “Ah,” the woman said, nodding once. “You’re awake. Good.”  
      
    “H-hello,” Sigyn said nervously. Dagný followed the woman in and Sigyn allowed herself to relax slightly. The woman went over to the side of the mat and put a hand on Sigyn’s forehead without warning. Sigyn tensed, averting her gaze to the ground and only relaxed when the woman brought her hand away.  
      
    “I’m Eir,” the woman said. “Gladsheim’s healer.”  
      
    “Oh!” Sigyn said, looking up at her. “Well met, Woman of Healing.”  
      
    “None of that,” Eir said firmly. “Just Eir.”  
      
    “Eir,” Sigyn said slowly with a nod.  
      
    “You fainted last night,” Eir nodded to Dagný to put a bowl down on the table by her mat. “Your body temperature was too high and you hadn’t cooled down.” Eir set another white cloth into the bowl and Sigyn heard the sound of water. “You look to be in better health now.”  
      
    “I feel better.”  
      
    Eir nodded again, a short, sharp motion, then pulled out the cloth and began rubbing it on Sigyn’s skin. She stopped Eir and took the cloth from her. “Please, let me,” Sigyn said with a weak smile. Eir simply turned away and left her to it.  
      
    “You will need to rest for a while longer,” Eir said. “And keep your temperature down. You should be able to join everyone again for the evening meal tonight.”  
      
    Her stomach lurched. “Oh,” she said, “that is good.”  
      
    “Here,” Eir said, thrusting a small bottle out in front of her face. “Drink this. It will help with any nausea you may still experience.”  
      
    Sigyn took the bottle from her silently and drank it, grimacing at the sourness of it. She followed it with another goblet of water, clearing the taste out.  
      
    “That’s everything for now,” Eir said. “Avoid whatever it was that heated you, rest, eat a little, and you’ll be fine. I’ll be back to check on you again in a while.” She gave a small nod of farewell to Sigyn, then left, leaving only her and Dagný.  
      
    Dagný cast a glance at Sigyn. “She’s very to the point.”  
      
    Sigyn wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but agreed nonetheless. She continued wiping down her body until the cloth went warm, then set it aside. Dagný came over to her and cleaned things up a little. “I’m sorry for what happened last night,” she said after a moment.  
      
    Sigyn blinked at her. “What?”  
      
    “What happened,” Dagný repeated. “With you vomiting and fainting. The Queen was so worried for you, as was the Lady Freyja. They both followed the Prince when he carried you up to your chambers and they didn’t leave even as Eir began working on you.”  
      
    Sigyn paused. “The Prince?”  
      
    “Yes,” Dagný nodded. “Prince Loki. The Queen called him over to have him carry you back to your chamber, and he did. We thought he had left the feast early as he usually does but he was still there.” Dagný straightened a few things on the mirror table. “He left once Eir told him she had no need of him and he was only getting in her way,” Dagný said with a smile.  
      
    Sigyn didn’t return it. To the point Eir may have been, but Sigyn thought back to how he’d been at the feast, and couldn’t help feeling that it was not entirely the best thing to say to Loki. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. “Oh. That was kind of him.”  
      
    “It was,” Dagný said lightly. “It was far kinder than anyone thinks him to be.”  
      
     _Does anyone trouble themselves with finding out how he truly is?_  
      
    “I’ll leave you to your rest,” Dagný said, interrupting her thoughts. “The Queen will likely come to see you after breakfast.”  
      
    “Wait,” Sigyn said, “Dagný? Would it be possible to see Helblindi today?”  
      
    Dagný frowned. “He’s still refusing to come out of his chamber.”  
      
    “Then I will go to him, if you would show me the way.”  
      
    “Women aren’t allowed in his chamber,” Dagný said. “Only men.”  
      
    “Oh.”  
      
    Dagný studied her a moment, then something in her expression changed. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said with a small sigh. “But don’t get excited.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled and, after a brief hesitation, Dagný returned it. “Thank you, Dagný.”  
      
    Dagný nodded and left, leaving Sigyn to her thoughts. She laid back down and watched as the sunlight slowly grew along the floor as it rose higher in the sky. Once the sun had warmed her chamber again and the light had begun to inch up the walls, the door opened. Frigga walked in, her expression worried.  
      
    “Oh, my dear,” she said, hurrying over to the matside. “We were so worried about you. How are you?”  
      
    “I am well,” Sigyn said. “Eir says I need to rest some more.”  
      
    “And you should,” Frigga said with a nod. “Does she know what caused it?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said slowly. “But I think I do.” At Frigga’s inquiring look, Sigyn glanced away. “The bath. It was too hot.”  
      
    “The bath--” Frigga repeated, then realized what Sigyn had meant. “The bath. Yes, of course, how foolish of me. I should have realized... I’m so sorry, Sigyn.”  
      
    Sigyn looked up in surprise. “No, my Queen, I did not mean for you to apologize. You did not mean to.”  
      
    “But it still hurt you,” Frigga said. “It won’t happen again, I promise you. The bath will be cold every time you use it.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled a little. That _would_ be nice. “Thank you.” She hesitated briefly then leaned forward. “Is it true that Prince Loki carried me here?”  
      
    Something shifted in her body at the question, but before Sigyn could ponder it, Frigga nodded. “It is,” Frigga said, studying Sigyn closely. “I asked him to. Why do you ask, dear?”  
      
    “I was only wondering,” Sigyn said. “I am sorry he had to at all.”  
      
    “Never mind that,” Frigga said with a wave of her hand. “I should let you return to your rest so you’ll be well enough to join us again tonight.”  
      
    The Queen seemed oddly intent on ending the subject, much to Sigyn's puzzlement. She couldn't carry on with it if Frigga didn't wish to, so she forced a smile and nodded. “Thank you, my Qu--Frigga.” She watched the Queen leave and the way her dress flowed beautifully around her. It did not do that for her, of that Sigyn was certain. She likely looked ridiculous in her dress and she kicked her skirt too hard.  
  
    She pushed that away and thought on Loki. If he had agreed to carry her, he must not have been insulted by her staring. Or he was in the habit of doing whatever his Mother wished him to.  
      
    Still. He had been willing to touch a Jotun and carry her without complaint. That was something Sigyn would keep in mind.  
      
    --  
      
    Dagný returned some time later, holding another dress in her hands. Sigyn bit back a groan and stood, letting Dagný prepare her. It was thinner than the one the night before, for which Sigyn was grateful. It didn't cover her arms, though it did  hide her legs completely. Her skin still looked odd against the lighter pink hues of the cloth. She kept silent about it.  
      
    “I found your brother.” Sigyn didn’t bother correcting her. “And a servant to walk us over to him. You really should rest instead, though.”  
      
    “It will not be for long,” Sigyn promised. “Only a small visit.”  
      
    Dagný sighed and nodded, then left the chamber. Sigyn followed, happy she didn’t have to wear shoes this time. Walking with the skirt would be much easier barefooted.  
      
    Waiting outside her chamber was a tall brown haired man, who exchanged a look with Dagný before setting off. They went through the endless maze of corridors and turns Gladsheim held. There were many. So many that Sigyn was sure she would be completely lost very fast without Dagný to guide her.  
      
     _Were there many corridors like this in Laufey’s castle, before the ruins closed them off?_  
      
    Finally, once it felt like they had walked to the other end of Gladsheim, they stopped at a chamber door. Sigyn wondered that she and Helblindi had been placed so far apart. _Do they believe we will work against them if we have the chance?_ Then again, Laufey would have suspected the same of any Aesir. She supposed she could see the thought behind it. It just saddened her to learn how deeply the distrust ran.  
      
    “Thank you,” she said to both Dagný and the other servant. Dagný nodded and the man looked everywhere but at her. Sigyn moved past them both and the chamber door opened as she neared, revealing... blackness. Helblindi’s chamber was dark. There was no fire lit. He had taken some sort of cloth--from the sleeping mats, maybe--and hung them up over the windows. The late day sunlight could be seen through them but it did not shine into the room.  
      
    It’d been a while since she’d been in complete darkness. Even at night the lights of the cosmos kept Asgard lit. In Jotunheim, it was almost always dark. Their far off sun lit everything in the softest of lights and the ruins of their buildings cast everything in deep shadows. Now that the chamber door was open, the firelight from the corridors lightened the chamber, but not much.  
      
    Sigyn stepped inside carefully, looking around. She heard footsteps following her and turned to see Dagný hesitantly peeking inside. “You do not have to come in,” Sigyn said, trying to smile. “It will only be a moment.”  
      
    Dagný frowned, glancing around again and then sharing another look with the male servant. Then she nodded and stepped out. She looked at Sigyn until the chamber door closed and threw everything back into darkness.  
      
    Sigyn blinked, then blinked again, then rubbed at her eyes. Waves and shapes appeared in her sight and she knew they weren’t in the room with her. Everything blended together and she couldn’t tell shapes apart from anything. Her eyes weren’t used to the darkness anymore. The thought made her incredibly sad.  
      
    “Helblindi? It is Sigyn.” She paused, tilting her head to listen until her eyes got used to the dark. “I came to see you.”  
      
    She heard a sigh and a shuffling of movement from a corner, and then the sound of footsteps approaching her. “I do not want to see you.”  
      
    “I know,” Sigyn said, turning to look at where she thought he was. His form appeared before one of the windows a moment later. He was almost as tall as they were. “But we must talk.”  
      
    “We do not _have_ to,” Helblindi said sharply.  
      
    “Please,” Sigyn said. “Please, Helblindi, listen. This is a difficult place for us to be in, I know. But you cannot be so difficult with the Aesir--”  
      
    “And how should I act?” Helblindi snarled, stepping towards her. She held her ground firmly. “Should I bow down to their King and his sons, who have slaughtered countless numbers of our kin? Should I smile and make them believe nothing is wrong, that they have done us a blessing by forcing us here? Should I learn their ways and become one of them?” She could feel his eyes trailing over her and her Aesir dress. “Just as you have done, _småen_?”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said. “Because we must. We have no other choice if we want peace--”  
      
    “The Aesir idea of peace is that they keep us in the ruins of our cities. They keep our means of power from us so that we may never again have the chance to rise up against them. And when we do, when we want revenge for what they have done to us, they kill us all. You worked in the healing wards. You saw how they massacred us like common animals. And yet you still look at the murderers who did that and you still hold no hatred for them. You have always been too full of hope, and too kind.”  
      
     _Of course I do,_ Sigyn thought. _But not blind hatred._ “Helbl--”  
      
    “Silence,” Helblindi hissed, stepping closer to her. She refused to step back. “Do not force me to listen to your ideas of forgiveness. There is no forgiving this, småen, and the only way there can be true peace is if we kill them all. Once Asgard crumbles from the sky, then we will know peace, and it will not be the kind the Allfather himself broke so easily.”  
      
    “We have no choice!” Her voice raised just a little and then fell silent. She could feel the anger rolling off of Helblindi, but she refused to cower before him like he expected her to. “We need this to succeed, Helblindi, and no, it will not be perfect in the beginning. Maybe some day we can make it so. But the only way to do that for certain is to play along!”  
      
    “You must like being one of them,” Helblindi said. “Wearing their clothes, smelling of their scents, and I heard you even attended their feast last night. Did you enjoy their tales as well?”  
      
    She fell silent again, body shaking in anger. She was so furious she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her fingertips and in her ears. “How can you believe I find this easy?” she asked, her voice all too quiet. “I hate it as much as you do. But it is my duty. At least I am _trying_ \--”  
      
    Pain exploded in her jaw and she was thrown to the floor. She landed hard, spots of light bursting in her sight, and her hand bent awkwardly underneath her body. Gasping, she quickly adjusted before the stabbing pain in her wrist got worse. She looked up as Helblindi's form appeared in the dull light.  
      
    “Get out,” was all he said. Sigyn scrambled to her feet and rushed around him, so fast the chamber door wasn't completely open when she reached it. She squeezed out as soon as she could and ran past the other servant and Dagný, who shouted something after her. She didn’t turn around. She ran blindly, feet slapping hard against the floor, and didn’t stop until her lungs felt tight in her chest and her body felt like heavy stone in the heat.  
      
    She leaned against a wall, wheezing, then finally slid down until she rested on the floor. The corridor was empty and for that she was grateful. Tears began rolling down her cheeks and she hastily wiped them away. She would not cry because of Helblindi’s actions. The pain still burned on her face, and her hand hurt to move certain ways, but she would not cry.  
      
     _He is shameful,_ she thought. _Many others would never have been so cruel._ What was worse, she had agreed with him until he said that killing all the Aesir was the only way they’d know peace. She felt disgusted by the Aesir dress and how often she had to say thank you to all of them even when they had done nothing to earn it. She did not want them to die because of it or for their actions against her kin.  
  
    It was not so hopeless. It was not so broken that everything had to be destroyed before anything could change. She hoped.  
      
    Sigyn gingerly touched her hand to her cheek, wincing, then glanced down each end of the corridor. The doors were closed and the only things with her were the unlit fire pits. She heard no one approaching.  
      
    She put her fingertips on her wrist, right where it hurt the most, then closed her eyes. Coldness traveled from her fingertips into her wrist, soothing the pain. She concentrated and saw the injury; it wasn’t broken, thankfully, but it still needed mending. She set her magic into the wound and began healing it until it was gone completely. After that was done, she made sure her jaw wasn’t broken or that her neck wouldn’t become stiff and painful later on.  
      
    Everything taken care of, Sigyn glanced around her again. It was then she realized she had no idea where she was. All of the corridors in Gladsheim looked the same, and now Dagný was not with her to help her back to her chamber. Hating herself for her stupidity and rash actions, Sigyn stood and tried to get her bearings. There were several closed doors along the corridor, though there were more on one side than the other. The side she was closest to only had two separate doorways. She walked over to one, wondering if it would open for her, and nearly jumped back when it did.  
      
    She hid behind the door quickly in case it was someone’s bed chamber, then glanced in when she didn’t hear anyone. The sight before her made her gasp.  
      
    It was a large chamber, almost as tall as the feasting hall had been, and there were long rows of something she couldn’t name holding what looked like books. And loose papers. And, in some cases, rocks with markings on them. The ceiling over them looked like glass, and the Asgardian sky shone through it, illuminating everything in soft colours. As far as she could see, the chamber stretched on forever. The thought that it could be full of writings nearly made her faint.  
      
    The Jotnar wrote things down as well, but their books were different, and most Jotnar preferred to share stories through voice. Still, there was a collection of writings hidden deep in Laufey’s castle, difficult to get to through the fallen rocks. But she had found a way to it and, once she had, she had spent every moment she could there. Most of them had been ruined when that part of the castle had collapsed; some books were unreadable, wet and destroyed. There were many others that were still good, though. It was how she had learned everything she knew, through books and with teaching herself.  
      
    If the texts in Laufey’s castle had been so wonderful, then what the Aesir held must have been unimaginable.  
      
    Sigyn stepped in and didn’t even notice the doors closing behind her. As far as she could see, there were books. She pulled one out, marveling at the smoothness of its binding. She opened it, trying not to breathe in the dust or the odd wet smell that stuck to the back of her throat. Then she frowned. It was written in a language she didn’t know, the writing smooth and intricate and beautiful. Different from the harsher words of her language. Shaking her head, she put it back and pulled out another one, only to find it in the same language.  
      
     _Of course,_ she realized. _The center of the Nine Realms would hold books from_ every _realm._  
      
    She wondered how many they held from Jotunheim. Not very many, she thought dejectedly.  
      
    She put the book back and began to wander through the rows, searching for anything that might look familiar. She saw no one else with her, the chamber empty and silent, and was grateful for it. No doubt whoever took care of the books would not want a Jotun touching them.  
      
    She’d been walking for a while until she finally recognized the words on some of the spines. Pulling one out to make sure, Sigyn grinned when she saw the Aesir language. She glanced through it and then pulled out another book, and another, and another, until she had several tall piles surrounding her on the floor. Some of them came up to her hips. Grinning gleefully, Sigyn sat down and made herself comfortable on the floor. She began to reach for the nearest book, then stopped.  
      
     _The Aesir would not want me touching these, would they?_ Just because she was a Jotun, they would not want her reading them. All the knowledge in the Nine Realms could be stored right in this chamber--though it was perhaps a bit small for that--and no one would want her to see it. Everything she could possibly ever want to know, right at her fingertips, and she would be refused it simply because of what she was.  
      
    She could understand why, maybe. She did not intend to use it for ill, though. _And,_ she thought slowly, _no one has to know I am here_. She fought with herself for a moment, then gave in and opened up a book. It was a history of one of the other realms, Alfheim. She hadn’t heard much of it. The only realms she knew much about were Asgard, Vanaheim, and Midgard. And she only knew about those because either Asgard had gone to war with them, or the Jotnar had.  
      
     _So much war,_ she thought distractedly. _Do we truly not know any other way to be?_  
      
    Sigyn pushed that thought aside and began reading, losing herself in the history of Alfheim. All thoughts of Helblindi and her failed attempt to get him to cooperate left her mind for the time being. All that mattered was the Light Elves and their realm.  
      
    The sun was lower in the sky when she finally finished the Alfheim book and reached for another one. She was a few pages into it when a door opened somewhere in the chamber. She stilled, eyes going wide and her heart beginning to beat rapidly. Someone else had entered the chamber. It was big enough that they maybe would not find her, but--  
      
    No, there were footsteps and they were coming her way. Sigyn tried to think of something to do, looking all around her. Then she noticed that the tops of the book rows did not reach the ceiling. She hurriedly stood and then grabbed hold of the edges of the shelves, putting her feet into the empty spaces she had left behind. She climbed up as the footsteps got closer, and made it to the top just as someone turned the corner. Sigyn paused to make sure she was in a good position and then cautiously looked down to see who it was.  
      
    Her breath caught in her throat. It was Loki.  
      
    He paused at the end of the row, looking at the piles of books she’d left on the floor. He walked over to them and then glanced around. She tensed, waiting for him to look up and see her. But he didn’t. He simply picked up a few of the books and then looked around once more before walking away.  
      
    Sigyn slowly relaxed, watching him go, then stood carefully. If he had looked up, he would have seen her. She felt oddly disappointed that he hadn’t. Once she’d known it was him, she hadn’t felt quite the need to hide. Carefully she climbed back down, then quietly followed his path out of the row. She glanced around the side of it and frowned when she couldn’t see him. She tilted her head and could just barely hear his footsteps. They were soft, hardly making any sound at all for such a tall man.  
      
    She followed them for a while as he gathered books, making sure he didn’t see her, until somehow she lost him. The rows created a maze much like the corridors of Gladsheim. She looked around a bit longer before sighing in frustration. She had well and truly lost him. Feeling strangely sad, she turned to leave when she heard something--a whisper, someone reading something quietly, and then she felt the beginnings of magic somewhere in the chamber.  
      
    She stopped, certain she was wrong. It couldn’t have been. The Aesir _hated_ magic.  
      
    Sigyn turned and followed the whispers. The feel of the magic got stronger the closer she got, until finally she stopped at the end of a row and looked around it and saw Loki. He had his books in piles just as she did, only his were on a table. They covered almost every inch of it save for a small space he left for himself, an open book, and a blank book with a black stick in the middle of it.  
      
    Sigyn made sure she was hidden, then watched as his finger moved along the line of words. Loki was completely entranced by what he was doing, fascination and determination lighting up his eyes. His magic was powerful. She could feel it, cold and biting. Just as Loki was completely engrossed in his spell, so was she in watching him work.  
      
     _He has magic,_ Sigyn thought. _A prince of Asgard has magic and uses it._ Of course she had heard small things about how the dark one wielded magic, but it was not often. He used his throwing daggers most of the time. That did not completely surprise her: Asgard would value one over the other.  
      
    But maybe--if the Allfather allowed his son to study magic--maybe that meant she too could be safe.  
      
    Loki paused, finger stopping at a point in the text. The magic around him slowly faded. He looked up and she quickly hid back behind the row, heart pounding, hoping he hadn’t seen her. Those hopes were crushed when she heard him say, “I know you’re there.”  
      
    Everything in her was telling her to run, to hide, her body getting ready to go as fast as she could. She almost did, then stopped. What was the point? He already knew she was there. Running would do her no good, especially if he was angered by her presence. And if she did, that might make things worse. She couldn’t say she hadn’t been there, either; the Allfather would believe Loki’s word over hers.  
      
    Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sigyn straightened herself and stepped out from behind the book row to meet Loki’s gaze. She watched him carefully as he stared at her, waiting for when he would strike.  
      
    He didn’t. He merely stared at her, then returned his gaze to his book. “Is there a reason you were following me?”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. “Oh,” she said. “I--wanted to thank you.” It hadn't been the reason at all, but now that she was before him, she decided she might as well do it.  
      
    He looked back up at her. “Thank me?” he asked after a quiet moment. “For what?”  
      
    “For last night,” Sigyn said. “The Queen said you carried me back to my chamber, after I...” She struggled to remember the word they had used.  
      
    “Fainted,” Loki said.  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said. “Fainted. Thank you.” She tried not to shift nervously. “It was kind of you. You did not have to.”  
      
    Loki stared at her before shrugging and returning to his book. “My Mother asked me.”  
      
    She paused, feeling her shoulders sag. “Oh,” she repeated. “Is that... the only reason?”  
      
    “What other reason would I have?” he asked as he turned a page.  
      
    Sigyn was silent for a while, studying this man and the books he surrounded himself with. From the dust on the shelves, she gathered that the Aesir did not often use this chamber. But he had piles of books just as she had. And he used magic. And so far, he had not once looked at her with disgust or hatred or even dislike. His expression was blank, but it was somehow better than the ways the others looked at her.  
      
    He was different from the other Aesir. Just as she was different from her kin, in some ways. Somehow Sigyn thought that would have been part of his reasoning. He was different, so he would treat her different too. Thinking it over then, she realized how childish it sounded. She couldn’t tell that just by looking at him a few times.  
      
    “You are right,” she said at last. “You would have no other reason. But you could have refused.”  
      
    Loki paused again. “I saw no reason to.”  
      
    “Many would not have touched a Jotun. Even if their Mother asked them to. Even if their Mother was the Queen.” Sigyn surprised herself by laughing quietly. “I do not think the Allfather himself could command someone to help a Jotun.”  
      
    At that he looked up at her again, a spark of something in his green eyes. “You’re quite bold to say something like that.”  
      
    “It is the truth, yes?”  
      
    “Not many would speak the truth so boldly, and to someone like me,” Loki said. “You’re either very stupid, or very brave.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard, clenching her fists at her sides. “And which do you think I am?”  
      
    Loki considered her, his gaze traveling over her. Not in a lustful way but a curious, thoughtful way. “I’m not sure yet,” he said at long last.  
      
    Sigyn paused, then stepped closer. “Perhaps it depends on who you speak such things to,” she said nervously, watching his reaction. The corners of his lips twitched just a little at that, as if he had been about to smile. Encouraged, Sigyn continued. “I would not say such things in front of some, but with others I would.”  
      
    “Like me.” Loki gave her an amused glance and stepped away from his table, his books forgotten. “And why is that?”  
      
    “Because,” Sigyn said slowly, “you are different. A good different.” Her heart beat quickly at the idea that maybe she had misjudged him, maybe she had guessed wrong. Maybe he wasn’t as different as she had originally thought. It was too late to take anything back now.  
      
    “A good different,” Loki repeated quietly, his gaze falling back down to his books. He wasn’t ignoring her or finding the books more interesting, though she wouldn’t fault him if he had. His expression was far off and thoughtful. He seemed to spend a lot of time in his own head. With that thought, Sigyn knew she hadn’t been wrong. “I’ve never heard of a ‘good’ different before.”  
      
    Sigyn shrugged. “The people who do not like different would not call it good, no.”  
      
    “There are a great many number of people who dislike it, then.”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said, slightly puzzled. “And they teach others to hate it.”  
      
    “I suppose so.” Loki’s mouth was a thin, hard line, and Sigyn feared she had said the wrong thing. Before she could say anything more, Loki met her gaze and straightened. “Your brother is what I expected your kind to be,” he said. “But you’re not.”  
      
    “Is that... a good thing?”  
      
    Loki didn’t answer right away and her fear at what his response may be grew with each passing moment. Then he managed a smile--it was small, but one nonetheless--and gave a quick nod. “Yes, I think it is.”  
      
    Sigyn returned his smile with one of her own. She was surprised at how easily it came. “And you are not what I expected the Aesir to be like. And yes,” she added before he could ask, “that is a good thing.”  
      
    Loki watched her as she smiled and then glanced off. After a few moments he stepped out from behind his table and approached her slowly. “I fear I don’t know your name.”  
      
    “Sigyn.”  
      
    “Sigyn,” Loki repeatedly slowly and the shiver that ran through her was entirely too pleasurable. “Well then, Sigyn,” he said, giving her a small bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”  
      
    “Well met,” Sigyn said softly, “Loki.”


	5. Raiðo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after a long hiatus I'm back to updating this story. The plot has changed a little so past chapters have been edited and reworked in places, mainly to take out mentions of a Certain Thunderous Prince because of reasons. Otherwise not much else has changed, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story despite the long wait for this chapter!

  
    “And what is this one?”  
      
    “ _Dagaz_ ,” Loki said, looking at the rune she had her finger on. “To render invisible.”   
      
    Sigyn glanced at him, a small, sheepish smile forming. “Invi...?”  
      
    “Unseen,” Loki explained. “Invisible means you cannot be seen by others.”  
      
    “Invisible,” Sigyn said, tasting the word. Unseen. How would it feel to walk about and not be seen at all by the other Aesir? She would be spared their looks of unease or disgust. She would not have to watch what she said or did for fear of someone judging her. She could do as she liked because no one would ever be able to see her.  
      
     _I must remember this,_ Sigyn thought, _so I may learn it later._   
      
    “You are very kind,” she said, keeping her gaze on the book in front of them, “to be teaching me all of this.”  
      
    Loki shrugged. “You could likely teach yourself, if you’d wanted,” he said. “I saw the books you had pulled out.”  
      
    “That may be true,” Sigyn said. “But it still means something that you offered.”  
      
    Loki gave her a sidelong glance, his expression curious and his eyes piercing, before looking away. “I suppose, yes.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at him for a long moment before looking back at the book. “And it would be better to have a teacher who knows what he is talking about to tell me these things, instead of having to force through it myself.” She paused, running a fingertip over the paper. “Though I guess there is no reason. I have no magic, so I cannot put any of this to use.”  
      
    Loki shifted and looked at her again. “That doesn’t mean you can’t read it, if you’re interested in Aesir magic.”  
      
    Sigyn simply blinked at him before nodding a little. “Yes, I suppose.” She found the next rune and pointed to it with a small smile. “So then what does this mean?”  
      
    “ _Thurisaz_ ,” Loki said slowly and precisely. “It’s used for protection.”  
      
    Sigyn frowned. “You have two runes for protection?”  
      
    “Algiz is a different form of protection than Thurisaz,” Loki explained. “Algiz is more immediate, and it’s slightly more powerful. Algiz can shield a larger area of space than Thurisaz does. Thurisaz is best left to one person.”  
      
    “I see,” Sigyn said thoughtfully, looking over the runes. “And if you made all the runes together?”  
      
    “If you put all the runes together, you would regret it,” Loki said, a teasing glint in his eye. Sigyn surprised herself by laughing.   
      
    “You understand what I meant.”  
      
    “If you put Algiz and Thurisaz together, you may come away with a stronger protection spell, yes,” Loki said. “Thurisaz has a habit of backfiring sometimes, and Algiz would help to protect against that.”  
      
    “ _Backfiring_ is bad?”  
      
    “Yes. It means the spell went wrong and it could possibly hurt you.”  
      
    “Oh! I see.”  
      
    They continued with this for a while until Loki glanced up and paused. “Ah,” he said, straightening. “I didn’t realize it was beginning to be so late.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked and looked up at the ceiling. Night was falling, the stars and colours of the cosmos beginning to shine in place of the sun. _Have we been talking for so long?_ she wondered, thinking back over her day. Then she remembered the events that led her here in the first place and gasped.  
      
    “Oh,” she said, “oh, Dagný will be looking for me--I must go,” Sigyn said, turning to Loki. “Forgive me.”  
      
    Loki merely rose an eyebrow at her sudden hurry. “Is something wrong?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “Well, yes, but you do not need to concern yourself. Thank you for everything, Loki,” she said, stopping long enough to look him in the eye. She meant every word of it and she offered him a smile. “Goodbye.”  
      
    Loki hesitated before nodding shortly. “Goodbye.”  
      
    She stayed where she was for a moment, just looking at him, almost feeling as if she should say something else. Then she turned and began to make her way past the rows until she realized something and stopped, looking back at him. “Um, Loki?”  
      
    He had been watching her and she thought that should have made her more uneasy than it did. “Yes?”  
      
    “I--I do not know the way back to my bedchamber,” Sigyn said. “I found this chamber by accident and I am afraid I may get lost again. Could you help me?”  
      
    Loki closed the book and came to join her side. “How did you become lost?”  
      
    Sigyn glanced away as they walked briskly through the rows. “I became separated from Dagný. I was looking at something else instead of following her and then when I looked again, she was gone. I wandered until I found this place.” It was a half lie, but she did not wish to speak about her encounter with Helblindi. Especially not to Loki. “I forgot about how worried she would be and stayed here longer than I should have,” she said. In truth she did not expect Dagný to be worried at all, but angry. If the word had spread that a Jotun was wandering around Gladsheim without being watched, she imagined the reaction would be less than pleasant.  
      
    Though maybe she could be lucky and Dagný would not say they had lost each other, for fear of it reflecting badly on her. Sigyn’s spirits brightened considerably at that thought and she hoped that was the case. Loki led her out of the chamber and began walking through the corridors easily. She envied him for it. _One day I will know these corridors as well as he and Dagný know them,_ she thought. It would be something to occupy her time.  
      
    Loki seemed to accept her story, for he said nothing about it. They walked in silence for a while, Sigyn waiting for someone to see her and yell at her for undoubtedly causing trouble. It wasn’t until they were halfway to her chamber that Dagný found her.   
      
    “Valhalla above,” Dagný breathed out, then straightened once she saw Loki. “I mean... my Prince,” Dagný said with a small bow.  
      
    “Dagný, yes?” Loki said. Before she could answer, Loki continued, his tone brusque. “You should keep a closer eye on her.”  
      
    Dagný’s eyes widened briefly before she bowed her head. “I am deeply sorry, my Prince. It won’t happen again.”  
      
    Loki nodded and Sigyn stared blatantly at him. What was this sudden change in posture, in how he spoke? “Good. See to it that it doesn’t. The next time you may not be so lucky.”  
      
    Dagný kept her head down and Sigyn continued staring at Loki, her red eyes wide. “Loki, wh--”  
      
    “You mean ‘my Prince,’” Loki said harshly.   
      
    Sigyn fell silent, heart dropping into her middle, and then cast her gaze down to the floor. “My Prince. Thank you for showing me the way back,” she said politely.  
      
    Loki said nothing, simply cast another look at Dagný, who did not return it, before turning and walking down the corridor. Sigyn stared after him, completely lost and--if she were honest--a little heartbroken.  
      
    “What happened?”  
      
    Sigyn paused, not knowing what to say. “Oh, I... I do not know. We--”  
      
    “Never mind that,” Dagný interrupted. “That’s nothing unusual for Prince Loki. That was almost kind of him, in fact. I meant with Helblindi. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”  
      
    Sigyn blinked, taken aback at everything, then pushed aside what had happened with Loki and weighed her options. Dagný had seen her run out of the chamber, clearly, as did the other servant. There was really no use in lying, but admitting that Helblindi had struck her in order to prove his power was not something she was comfortable admitting to Dagný just yet. “We had a--what do you call it? A fight that is only words, not with fists or swords?”  
      
    “An argument.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said. “We had an argument. I took it more to heart than I should have and got upset. I should not have run off as I did.” She hesitated. “I did not mean to cause you any trouble.”  
      
    “You didn’t,” Dagný said. “I was, uh. Worried. I thought he’d hurt you, and if anyone had seen you without me or another escort...” Dagný trailed off. She didn’t need to finish the thought. Sigyn knew what would have happened. “I’ve been looking for you this entire time,” Dagný continued, glancing down the way Loki left.   
      
    Sigyn bowed her head, unable to meet Dagný’s gaze. “I am sorry.” Truthfully, she felt relieved that Dagný had not raised any warning of a Jotun wandering loose in Gladsheim.   
      
    Dagný was silent for a moment. “Don’t be. I’m glad you’re safe now. And the Prince won’t tell anyone about this, not yet.”  
      
    Sigyn kept silent, not really wanting to speak about Loki anymore.  
      
    Dagný shrugged. “Well, he may have helped you last night, but I won’t expect much kindness from him unless he’s prodded by his mother. He keeps to himself, mostly, and now that Prince Thor is gone...”  
      
    When Dagný trailed off and didn’t seem likely to continue, Sigyn spoke up quietly. “It is not that bad a thing to keep to one’s self.”  
      
    She glanced at Sigyn, looking a little surprised. She appeared ready to say something, then shook her head. “Never mind. We should go now, else you’ll be late for supper. We need to get you into proper clothing.”  
      
    Realizing this meant shoes, Sigyn held back a tired sigh and followed after Dagný. She paused only once to glance back down the corridor. A a flash of black retreating behind a corner caught her eye and she blinked, staring, before deciding she had seen wrong and ran to catch up to Dagný.  
      
    --  
      
    While Dagný prepared her hair, Sigyn found her thoughts drifting back to Loki. Now that she was away from him and able to untangle her thoughts, she found herself puzzling over his motives. He’d fought alongside his father in the war. Different he may have been, he was still Aesir. That meant he saw her as a monster, as the rest did.   
      
    And yet, like his mother, Loki had seemed... welcoming enough. He was good at hiding his emotions, she had guessed that much, yet even the little things did not betray him. The things a person would do without realizing it. He didn’t move away from her when she neared, he’d kept his back in plain sight of her most of the time, hadn’t stopped her from touching anything. Anyone else would have edged away without thinking about it, would have refused to show their back to her for fear she would plunge a weapon into it, and would have kept her from touching anything that was strictly Aesir.   
      
     _I understand Frigga_ , Sigyn thought. _I think. She thinks she must take care of me now. She wants me to be more Aesir and is teaching me how to be so. Dagný is only with me because she has been commanded to. Freyja... pities me._ Out of all of them, Sigyn supposed Freyja had the purest motives.  
      
    He had been so kind, and then they had met back up with Dagný and all of that changed in a second. She couldn’t understand it. Until, slowly, she did. The Loki she saw in private--the one who had taught her the Aesir runes--was different from the one she saw around others. But why? Was it simply another custom she didn’t understand, a need to act superior to the servants, to somehow further prove his place of power over them? Or was it something else?  
      
    Loki confused her. She had expected to be mostly ignored by him and, for a time, had been content with that idea. Until she had seen Loki alone at the feasting table, ignored by everyone. He had noticed her, and then today he had not turned her away. And before, in Jotunheim, he had seen her. He seemed to notice her not because she was a Jotun, but because of... she didn’t know what. It should have unnerved her, she knew. Instead it sent a small thrill through her.     
      
    It was different from how she was used to being treated. The Jotnar had often ignored her; they considered her bad luck given the nature of her birth. It was only when she began to show competence with magic that they slowly accepted her, but even that had taken close to a century. Then Angrboda had approached her and became her first true friend. They had completely different interests--Sigyn with her magic, Angrboda with hunting and fighting--but they still loved each other. Sigyn could make the usually far too serious Angrboda laugh, while Angrboda kept Sigyn out of trouble and protected her from others.  
      
    Loki treated her differently from the Aesir and the Jotnar. He treated her like Angrboda had, until he was around others. With a heavy sigh, Sigyn tried to ignore the aches in her heart and attempted to get her thoughts together.   
      
    So then, which was the true Loki? How did he really feel about her? Was it the one who’d stayed with her in the library, or the one who had coldly brushed her aside?  
      
    Or maybe, just maybe, Loki was genuine in his kindness like his Mother was. For all that she was often lost when it came to Aesir customs, Sigyn liked to think she wasn’t an idiot in other things. She had thought of the possibility that Loki was simply tricking her, trying to get close to her because his Father had ordered him to so they could see if she were planning anything. But everything in their interactions contradicted that.  
      
     _But if he found out about your magic,_ Sigyn thought, _would he be so kind then?_  
          
    She had to tread carefully with Loki. Perhaps not as carefully as she did with other Aesir, but she could not forget their positions. A Jotun claiming curiousity in Aesir magic would leave a bad impression, yes; a Jotun able to wield that magic would be far, far worse. And if it happened that the less than friendly side was his true self... well. She would deal with that when she came to it, she supposed.  
      
    “Are you well, Sigyn?”  
      
    Sigyn blinked and was brought back to reality by Dagný’s voice. The girl was looking at her in the mirror with a worried expression. “Yes, I am. Why?”  
      
    “You seemed lost in thought,” Dagný said. “You look like that often, to be honest. But tonight it seems heavier, somehow.”  
      
    Sigyn frowned. _How does one get lost in their own thoughts?_ “I suppose my thoughts would be considered ‘heavy’. I am fine. Thank you.”  
      
    Dagný was silent for a long while as she put more decorations in Sigyn’s hair. “You’re not what I expected you to be,” she finally said. At Sigyn’s questioning look, she continued. “I thought you’d be... well, like a typical Jotun.”  
      
    “And what is a typical Jotun?” Her tone was maybe a bit colder than she intended.  
      
    Dagný looked embarrassed and struggled with her words. “Well, a monster. Power hungry, foul, terrifying, snarling, maybe a little dumb, caring for nothing but how to expand your kingdom and place yourselves above the rest in the Nine Realms.”  
      
    Sigyn took this in slowly. “Strange,” she said after a moment, “we say the same thing about the Aesir.” She allowed herself a moment of pride at Dagný’s shocked expression, then continued. “And yet you are certainly not like that. Neither is the Queen. Or Freyja.” _Or Loki_ , she added in her mind. “So it seems we are not what we expected each other to be.”  
      
    They stared at each other in the mirror for a time, then Dagný blinked and returned to her work. Silence stretched between them as they finished getting her ready. Her shoes pinched her toes and made her heels burn, and the dress, while lighter, still covered as much of her as possible. Almost as if they were trying to hide as much of her skin as they could.   
      
     _How hopeful they must be if they think a dress that hides everything can make the other Aesir forget that I am a Jotun,_ Sigyn thought sadly as she fingered the golden fabric. Her red eyes stared back at her in the mirror and finally Sigyn looked away, unable to stand how bright the gold fabric was against her skin.   
      
    She followed Dagný down the path to the feasting hall, where once again the singing roar of the Aesir vibrated in her bones and blood. A soldier was leading all the men in an uproarious song, while the women laughed and clapped along. Odin merely watched the proceedings and Loki stayed in his seat, not bothering to join in with the others. He merely looked at his plate, as normal, and did not even glance up at her as she neared.  
      
    Swallowing thickly, Sigyn hurried over to sit next to Frigga, suddenly self-conscious. She kept her gaze on her food and tried to ignore the drunken singing of the men, which hurt her ears and made her head throb. She snuck glances at Loki throughout the evening, but not once did she feel his gaze on her.   
      
    She still wasn’t certain how to feel about him. She’d felt so comfortable with him in the library, and she craved that sense of normalcy she’d had with him. It wasn’t something she expected to experience often in Asgard.  
      
    But he was Odin’s son. People already disapproved of Frigga associating with her; how would they feel if one of their princes did the same as well? She was not there to be welcomed into their world or court. She was there as a pawn to stop more deaths, nothing more. She could not delude herself into thinking she would ever be accepted.  
      
    And if he was going to treat her in such a manner while they were in public... well. He may be Odin’s son and she may be nothing more than a Jotun hostage, but Sigyn decided she wouldn’t stand for it. If this was how things were going to be, she wouldn’t give him the opportunity to be so cold.  
      
    Sigyn took a long drink of the ale and cringed at the taste. It stung at her tongue and throat and left an overly warm feeling in her middle. Still, it helped distract her for a time.  
      
    The night continued with more singing from the men and a few attempts at conversation from Frigga. After those attempts died off due to Sigyn’s morose mood, Frigga left her alone, for which she was exceedingly grateful. She kept to herself, eating though she had no appetite. The burning wood from the firepits made the back of her throat ache and scratch, and she downed more ale in the hopes it would help a little.   
      
    After a while, the smell and the noise of the celebrations became too much and she managed to get Frigga to agree to letting her out onto the balcony. She leaned against the blockade and took deep breaths of the air, which smelled of salt from the ocean. She was alone for once, Frigga having accompanied her to a certain point and then letting her go off on her own. She had no doubt she was still being watched, so she did not wander around or do anything that might make her look suspicious. She stayed where she was, the breeze helping a little.   
      
     _This is to be my life from now on,_ Sigyn thought sadly. _Locked up in Gladsheim, taken from place to place whenever someone wants me, never allowed a moment to myself. Perhaps I should do as Helblindi does and simply lock myself away in my chamber._   
      
    But it was all for peace, she reminded herself firmly. No more war and no more killing of Jotuns or Aesir. She had known what she was putting herself into when she offered herself as hostage. Her freedom for the safety of her people. She’d thought it a small thing at the time, the needs of the Jotnar outweighing her own.   
      
    Hugging herself tightly, Sigyn tried to push those thoughts away. Times like these, Angrboda would have pulled on her braid and admonish her for keeping everything inside, offering in her own way to listen to whatever she was thinking about.   
      
    I wonder how she is doing, Sigyn thought, now that the war is over? She would be getting things back into order, Sigyn supposed. Helping people heal, trying to rebuild what they could of their cities, moving on in what ways they could. She wondered, then, if Odin had offered to help them with the destruction his army had caused. They were at peace now, were they not? Bound together in the same way Asgard and Vanaheim were. Maybe that meant Jotunheim could have buildings again. They wouldn’t live in ruins that would crumble around them anymore.  
      
    Maybe it was the start of a new age for Jotunheim. Sigyn was torn between wanting to be there to see it and hating that the Aesir were half responsible for it.   
      
    A quiet sound from behind her made Sigyn jump and turn around quickly. Then she stilled, her eyes widening as she took in who stood before her.  
      
     _How can he be here?_  
      
    The man shifted from foot to foot, uneasy or maybe even nervous. He ran a hand through his blond hair--how different it looked without blood and dirt in it, Sigyn thought--and his blue eyes met hers.  
      
    “Hello,” he said, his voice deep.  
      
    Sigyn took a step back, uncertain, and glanced out at the feasting hall. Frigga was able to see her from there, but the Queen wasn’t looking in her direction. Neither was the Allfather.  
      
    Loki was, however.  
      
    Before she could process that, the man stepped forward, then seemed to think better of it and kept back. A tense, awkward silence fell between them as Sigyn waited for him to do something and the man seemed to cast about for something to say. Finally, at length, he said, “Theoric.”  
      
    Sigyn stared. “What?”  
      
    “My name,” the man said again. “It’s Theoric Geirrson.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed thickly and nodded shortly. “Theoric. I assume you already know mine.”  
      
    Theoric managed a wry smile. “Only fools don’t know of you.”  
      
    She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply didn’t. Her gaze went down to his torso absently, without her even realizing it. His hand went up to his side after a moment, seemingly catching on to where her sight had gone.  
      
    “I didn’t know if it was you at first,” Theoric said. “I didn’t know you were Laufey’s ward.”  
      
    “We did not have much time for introductions,” Sigyn said, trying to lighten the tension she felt. “I am surprised you recognize me.”  
      
    “I do now,” Theoric said. “I wasn’t certain from far away. You look... different.”  
      
     _I look Aesir,_ Sigyn wanted to say. She bit her tongue briefly before looking down at herself. “As do you. Not being covered in blood does change one’s appearance.”  
      
    Theoric laughed and Sigyn found herself smiling in return. “True enough,” he agreed. Another silence fell between them, though less tense, for which Sigyn was grateful. “I wanted to thank you.”  
      
    Sigyn glanced away, shifting awkwardly. “I do not need to be thanked,” she said quietly.  
      
    Theoric rose an eyebrow at her. “You don’t think you deserve thanks for what you did?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said, her tone simple. “I think it best if we not speak of it at all, truly.”  
      
    Theoric stared at her for a long moment, then nodded and took another step back. “If that’s your wish,” he said. “But you do have my deepest gratitude, Sigyn. I’ll never be able to repay you, but if you have need of anything--”  
      
    “Please,” Sigyn said, her voice shaking. “Not here.”  
      
    At length he nodded. “Another time then. Goodbye, Sigyn.” He turned and left, glancing back briefly only once.  
      
    When he was gone, Sigyn took a deep breath and steadied herself. She hadn’t expected to see him again, not after everything. And to be thanked? She wasn’t sure how to take it. How would the Aesir react if they’d learned of what she’d done? She knew how the Jotnar would react, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.  
      
    Shaking her head, Sigyn left the balcony and went to return to the feasting hall. The singing seemed distant now, as she was--as Dagný would say--lost in her own thoughts. As she neared the main table, she looked up to see Loki staring at her. He glanced away without so much as a change in his expression, as if she was nothing.  
      
    As if he didn’t care about her at all.  
      
    Clenching her fists, Sigyn approached Frigga and quietly asked to be given leave. Frigga agreed and Sigyn went to find Dagný, who stood on the sidelines of the room. The servant took one look at her expression and then immediately began leading her out. Intensely grateful for this, Sigyn followed her down the corridors. She felt sick to her stomach, a different kind of illness than what the heat had left her with before. This one was all her own fault.  
  
    Dagný led them to her bedchamber and, once the door was closed, started the firepit. Then she helped Sigyn undress and into her night clothes. Sigyn’s feet were in tremendous pain from the shoes, making her walk awkwardly across the chamber from her dressing screen to the sleeping mat. She fell onto it, sighing deeply as its comfort enveloped her.  
      
    After a moment she realized Dagný hadn’t left. She met the other woman’s gaze. “Yes?”  
      
    “Are you okay?” Dagný asked, approaching her.   
      
    Sigyn didn’t answer immediately. Then she shook her head, resisting the urge to press her face into the pillows like a child. “No, I am not.”  
      
    There was another pause, then Sigyn felt Dagný sit on the edge of the mat. “Do you want to talk about it? About what’s wrong?”  
      
    Sigyn sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. “Things are only... very difficult right now,” she said. It was a hilarious understatement, though not a lie. “I knew it would be hard here, but I did not entirely know how much.”  
      
    Dagný didn’t seem to know what to say at first. “It must be difficult, to be away from your home and family,” she said after a pause. She held herself awkwardly and Sigyn could tell she wasn’t used to comforting someone else. Or she wasn’t particularly good at it, anyway.   
      
    “I do miss it,” Sigyn said. “I miss Jotunheim.”  
      
    Dagný gave her a sidelong glance and it took a moment for Sigyn to realize that the Aesir wouldn’t understand why. To her, Jotunheim was a desolate wasteland of rock and ice, eternal darkness and bone chilling cold, home to the monsters that terrified the golden Aesir children. She did not know the beauty of it, how the snow looked as it drifted from the sky, how startlingly blue the water could be, how it was so crisp and heartachingly stunning. She did not know of the nights spent celebrating and laughing with loved ones, of looking out at the horizon and seeing the land for miles. She did not know of the stillness of the air, a stillness that had begun to speak more of death and a slow decay than of peace and quiet.   
      
    She did not know of how the land was crumbling beneath them without the Casket, how their buildings fell and their cities became nothing but piles of rock. She did not know of Jotunheim at all, except of what she’d been told in bedtime stories.  
      
    And, Sigyn realized with a shock, she knew nothing of Asgard and the Aesir except what she had been told as well.  
      
    “What is it like?”  
      
    Sigyn blinked and focused on Dagný again. “What?”  
      
    “What’s Jotunheim like?” Dagný asked, her tone and expression completely serious.  
      
    Sigyn stared for a long moment, then slowly smiled. She wasn’t certain she could properly explain Jotunheim or put it into the right words in the Aesir language, but she was going to try. For the sake of someone else understanding what she’d given up for this, she would try. For the chance that Dagný may come to understand her in some way, she would try and try again.  
      
    And it would help distract her from everything that had happened, besides.


	6. Old Hope

   “Ow,” Sigyn hissed as she jerked her leg away from the needle the seamstress had just pricked into her skin. The seamstress didn’t look up, keeping her gaze on her stitches and readjusting her grip on the fabric of Sigyn’s new dress.  
      
    “Apologies,” was all she said before returning back to work. Sigyn bit back a sigh and straightened again when Freyja motioned for her to do so.   
      
    “Be more careful with that needle of yours,” Freyja told the woman, her voice firm. Sigyn felt a small bit of gratitude; like her, Freyja suspected that the poke had not been entirely accidental. “It’s not for much longer,” Freyja promised, seeing Sigyn’s expression in the tall mirror she stood in front of. “A few more measurements and fixings, and you’ll be done.”  
      
    “I know,” Sigyn said quietly. “Thank you again for helping me with this, Freyja.”  
      
    “How could I say no?” Freyja said with a smile. “Dresses are one of my specialties, after all.”  
      
    “I am very grateful to you,” Sigyn said, and it was the truth. She had no idea how to choose her own fabric--Frigga had commanded the seamstresses to let her have whatever she wanted, and the amount of options they had was dizzying--or how to decide what cut of dress she wanted, or even how to just stand there and let the seamstress do her work. Freyja had saved her the horror of navigating it on her own, telling her which colours would look best on her and what dresses would suit her.   
      
    “You can pay me back later, if that’s where you’re heading with that thought,” Freyja said.   
      
    “I--no--or I will, if you wish it.”  
      
    “I don’t,” Freyja said. “I don’t mind helping.”  
      
    Sigyn managed a smile at the redheaded woman before looking back at herself in the mirror. Truthfully, she didn’t mind it all that much; at the very least it was keeping her mind off her own troubles for a while. She hadn’t seen Loki since the evening meal the night before, and she wasn’t in any particular hurry to. And Theoric... well, that was another issue entirely.  
      
    _And I thought I would only be locked away for the rest of my life, with no one to speak to or be with ever again,_ Sigyn thought. _That may be preferable to this confusion._  
      
    “I tried looking for you at supper last night,” Freyja said, looking over a fabric closely. “You left early?”  
      
    “I did. I was not feeling well.”  
      
    “I saw you speaking to a man before you left,” Freyja said after a long pause. She glanced up at Sigyn. “Was he bothering you?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said slowly. “He was not. He was very kind.”  
      
    “Oh?” Freyja said, smiling slowly. “Have you an admirer already?”  
      
    “Ad--what?”  
      
    “Admirer. It means that he’s interested in you romantically. Finds you attractive and beautiful and perhaps wishes to court you.”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said, alarmed. “No, it was nothing like that. He only--he wanted to welcome me to Asgard.” At least, she _hoped_ it was nothing like that.  
      
    Freyja rose an eyebrow, and Sigyn detected a hint of disbelief in her expression. Her blue eyes studied Sigyn carefully. “He left it a bit late, don’t you think?”  
      
    “I suppose, yes,” Sigyn said. “But he meant well. He did not mean me harm.” Which was more than she could say for some of the Aesir in Gladsheim. “Truly. He was fine.”  
      
    Freyja made a noncommittal sound, though Sigyn could tell she still didn’t quite believe it. After a moment, despite herself, she cautiously asked, “Would it be a bad thing if he talked to me again?”  
      
    “No,” Freyja said, holding up a swath of fabric to study. “He’s a good man. A good warrior, comes from a strong family. He tends to keep to himself at times. There are worse people to befriend.”   
      
    Sigyn took all that in quietly, watching the dressmaker’s needle work in and out of the fabric. Her mind wandered back to Jotunnheim, to the rock citadel and the icy plains just outside the city, where even in her healer’s room she could hear the sounds of battle crashing through the otherwise silent and still night.   
  
     How often had she gone over to the opening in the wall to look out at that far off place? When she had no one to tend to, she found herself watching her kin lose to the Aesir. She had felt strangely removed from it, which she supposed she was, within the relative safety of the crumbling citadel walls.   
      
    That was what had irritated her, that she _was_ so removed from it. It had been very easy to sneak out of the city, in the end...  
      
    “There,” the dressmaker said, bringing Sigyn out of her thoughts. She was putting away her needle and standing, avoiding looking directly at Sigyn and instead looking past her to Freyja. “The dress should be done in time for the feast tonight. The Queen has requested that we make these our priority, so the rest shouldn’t be long in coming. We’ll send word when they’re done.”  
      
    Sigyn inwardly cringed at hearing the Queen’s request. She knew that ordering the dressmakers to make a Jotun their main project would cause some resentment. She half wished that Frigga hadn’t ordered such, but then she supposed that the dresses would never be done in that case.   
      
    “Thank you,” Freyja said, setting down the fabric she’d been looking at. They helped Sigyn out of the dress and into her old one, then she left with Freyja. “Well, have you anything else planned for the day?” Freyja asked as they walked down the corridor.  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said. “I am supposed to have my midday meal with the Queen.” She decided not to mention that the afternoon was clear, other than that. She hoped that she could simply retreat to her chamber or even the library until dinner, and she didn’t want anyone intruding on that time.   
      
    “Hmm, well,” Freyja said, “I would still love to have you over at my hall sometime. When Gladsheim gets to be too suffocating, you may come over whenever you like.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said. “But I do not think they will let me out of Gladsheim for a very long time.”  
      
    “You’d be surprised, darling,” Freyja said. “They can’t keep you locked in here forever, you know.”  
      
    _Are you certain about that?_ Sigyn wanted to ask, but stayed silent as they walked. In truth, she didn’t want to go out. As suffocating as Gladsheim was, she was safer inside of it than she was outside. She did not wish to know how the rest of the Aesir would react to her, if they saw her wandering through their city.  
      
    When Sigyn finally spoke up, she changed the subject slightly. “Are you close with Prince Loki?”  
      
    Freyja seemed surprised, glancing at her. “No, not really. Why do you ask?”  
      
    Sigyn sighed. “I was merely wondering if you could tell me what he was like. As you did with Theoric, yes?”  
      
    “Well, of course I can say nothing awful about him, as he is the second Prince,” Freyja said, her tone light. “Crown Prince now, actually, if the Allfather decides such. But I will say that you have to keep your wits about you when you’re with him. He’s a very slippery sort of man.”  
      
    “Slippery?” Sigyn asked, frowning, an image of Loki sliding on ice coming to her.   
      
    Freyja cast about for a better word. “He’s not what he seems,” she said at last. “I think that’s as diplomatic as I can be about him.” Freyja scrutinized her for a moment. “Why do you ask, Sigyn?”  
      
    “Because he will be there at the midday meal with the Queen and myself,” Sigyn said. “I only wanted to know what you thought of him. I am sorry if I have caused offense.”  
      
    “You haven’t,” Freyja said, frowning slightly. “Sigyn, while I’m sure that Loki won’t do anything stupid with you... be careful.”  
      
    Sigyn stopped and turned to look at her. “Why must I be careful of him?”  
      
    “As I said, he’s not what he seems,” Freyja shrugged. “Sometimes he has ways of doing things that are harmful to others, and he’s not the kindest of men. I doubt you’ll have much chance to spend time with him, though. He keeps to himself.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded slowly and began walking again, thinking over what Freyja had said. More or less it was what everyone else had said of him. Now she wondered about their encounter in the library, and how he had acted towards her and Dagný afterwards. Which was the real Loki? The one who had taught her some of the Aesir magic runes, or the one who had coldly brushed her off?   
      
    Perhaps Freyja was right and she did have to be careful around Loki. The idea rubbed her the entirely wrong way, and after a moment she realized it was because she had thought of Loki as someone she could be friends with. Someone she didn’t have to be wary of or uneasy around.   
      
    _Maybe I am the fool then, for expecting anything different from an Aesir,_ Sigyn thought.   
      
    “I will keep that in mind,” Sigyn said. “Thank you, Freyja.”  
      
    --  
      
    When Dagný let her into Frigga’s sitting room, the Queen and her son were already there. Sigyn dipped into a curtsy and returned Frigga’s warm smile with a small one of her own. She cast a glance at Loki, who merely inclined his head respectfully.  
      
    It seemed she was going to get the cold Loki today.  
      
    Suddenly weary, Sigyn bit back a sigh and followed Frigga over to the table and chairs. As they sat down, servants came and brought them their midday food; Asgardian fruits and vegetables, light meade, and a hot soup for both Loki and Frigga. In place of the soup for Sigyn, there was the meat of some animal. Slightly heartened by this show of understanding from the Queen, Sigyn smiled.  
      
    Frigga, pleased by Sigyn’s acceptance, smiled back. She nodded to signal that both of them could start eating, and so they did.   
      
    Sigyn chanced a look at Loki and was strangely disappointed to find that he was mostly ignoring her, focusing on his own food. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Frigga glance to her son as well. Sigyn looked back down to her food and continued eating, aware of how increasingly awkward the silence became the longer it went on. The only thing to break it was the sound of their silverware on their plates.  
      
    Finally, Frigga broke the silence. “How did your meeting with the dressmakers go, Sigyn?”  
      
    “It was fine, yes,” Sigyn said. “Lady Freyja had to help me, but I think you will be pleased with the dresses, my Queen.”  
      
    “It doesn’t matter if I’m pleased with them,” Frigga said gently. “It’s more important that you like the dresses.”  
      
    Sigyn paused, blinking, and then smiled. “Yes, of course I do.”   
      
    A small lie, but a necessary one. Truthfully she wasn’t overly fond of the Asgardian dresses she’d been made to wear so far. They were heavy and overly warm, and covered far too much of her body. All the colours looked strange on her dark skin, though she admitted to herself that the fabrics Freyja chose looked better than most.   
      
    She could not admit that to the Queen, however. Loki glanced up at her briefly and Sigyn caught his gaze before he turned back to his meal. Wondering at the sudden look, Sigyn shifted in her seat and kept her eyes to her plate.  
      
    “Then I’m glad,” Frigga said. “We’ll need to make you a summer festival dress as well, and perhaps one for winter. But that can wait a while.”  
      
    Sigyn merely smiled and nodded briefly, and the silence resumed. She wondered if it was a bad sign, the silence. Should she be trying to make conversation as well? They were acting as if she were an honoured guest, but she wasn’t, not really. A guest would feel far safer in speaking her thoughts than Sigyn currently did. Deciding to let the Queen or the Prince control the flow of the conversation, Sigyn turned back to her meal and took a bite of an apple.  
      
    “And Loki,” Frigga said at length, turning to her son, “have you had a chance to spend some time with Sigyn?”  
      
    Sigyn barely kept herself from dropping her fork in surprise. She gripped it tightly, looking up briefly to meet Loki’s gaze again, and then did her best to make her expression blank.   
      
    “Not as much as I would like, Mother,” Loki said after a beat. “I’ve been busy with my studies, and Father has said that he wants me to begin taking over some of the minor duties.”  
      
    “Well,” Frigga said with a broad smile, “all the more fortunate that we’re here together, now. You’ve time to speak with each other.”  
      
    Sigyn took a long drink of her meade and hoped neither one of them picked up on her nervousness. Loki merely smiled at his mother, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.   
      
    “Yes, you have remained quite a mystery to everyone since you came here,” Loki said to her.   
      
    _Only because no one really cares enough to ask me about myself_ , Sigyn thought but dared not say. “I have been busy settling in, and there has been little time for such a thing.” She paused before venturing carefully, “What would you ask me?”  
      
    When Loki did not immediately speak up, Frigga stepped in. “Do you have any family, in Jotunheim? Besides Laufey?”  
      
    Sigyn shook her head slowly. “No. My Mother died when I was young, and my Father died before I was born.”  
      
    “Oh,” Frigga said. “I’m so sorry, my dear.”  
      
    She shrugged, swallowing thickly. She hoped they would not ask how her Father died. “I have grown used to it. It happened a very long time ago.”  
      
    “So you’re alone,” Loki said, and Sigyn was not certain she liked how closely he studied her in that moment.  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said slowly. “I do have--I did have friends, in Jotunheim. And Farbauti was always very kind to me. I have never felt alone.”   
      
    Which was a lie; yes, she had friends in Jotunheim, and a few people who cared for her. But she had always felt alone. She had grown up in solitude with no one but her Mother to speak to, and that feeling of loneliness had never really left her.  
      
    She was not about to tell that to Loki, though.  
      
    “Well, I’m certain you’ll find many people to befriend here, once things are settled,” Frigga said, and Sigyn found herself looking at Loki. He caught her eye and, realizing what she was doing, Sigyn glanced away.   
      
    Frigga was wrong. The most Sigyn knew she could ever expect from the Aesir was a cold and begrudging acceptance of her presence. Dagný might have stopped being hostile, but Sigyn doubted they would ever be true friends. Freyja might be friendly, but it was more of a protective friendliness.   
      
    Instead of saying any of that, she smiled and nodded. “I am certain as well.”  
      
    Another lull came in the conversation, broken by a servant who came to stand by Frigga’s side. He leaned in and whispered something to her, and she frowned.   
      
    “Excuse me,” Frigga said to both Loki and Sigyn, “something has come up. I’ll be but a minute. Loki, take care of our guest while I’m gone.”  
      
    “As you say, Mother.”  
      
    Sigyn watched her leave, a sudden feeling of nervousness coming over her. When Frigga closed the door behind her, she turned to look at Loki again and stilled when she saw he was studying her.  
      
    “I--um,” Sigyn said, trying to shake off her anxiety. “You do not have to speak to me. If you do not wish to.”  
      
    Loki took a sip of his meade, his eyes never leaving hers. “And risk my Mother’s wrath? I think not.”  
      
    “She would not know,” Sigyn said quietly. “I would not say anything.”  
      
    Loki gave her a once over, and she did not miss the curious spark in his eyes. “Why do you assume I’ll be cruel to you?”   
      
    She kept herself from flinching at the cold note in his voice. “Because... you were kind in the library, yes, but when Dagný found us, you...” She struggled to find the right words in the Aesir language, holding up her hands helplessly. “You changed.”  
      
    Loki shrugged one shoulder. “But I wasn’t cruel. Merely offhanded.”  
      
    She did not know what _offhanded_ meant, but she understood the general idea. “As I said, my Prince, if you have no wish to speak with me, you do not have to.” She paused briefly. “Though I do wonder why you were kind in the library, if you did not intend to be so afterwards.”  
      
    “Mother asked me to be kind,” Loki said, and something about that did not ring quite true to her. “If you’re so bothered by this, why would you be willing to save me from her displeasure?”  
      
    _Because that is who I am_ , Sigyn thought. _Because I would not do that to you, even if I did dislike you._   
      
    “It was my understanding of these circumstances that I am to be creating good will between Asgard and Jotunheim,” Sigyn said coolly. “I can not very well do that if I am angering the Crown Prince, yes?”  
      
    “But you would have every reason to,” Loki said. “You may play at being kind and innocent, but you are a Jotun caught in Gladsheim for the rest of her life. Are we truly to expect that you have no wish to cause us harm?”  
      
    “I do not,” Sigyn said, shocked that he would think that way. So that was what the incident in the library had been about, then. He was testing her, and she supposed she must have failed given his new hatred of her. She wanted to cry for having been so stupid as to believe in his kindness.   
      
    _You have too gentle a heart,_ Angrboda had once said. _And you are too willing to believe in the best of people. Especially the enemy._   
      
    _More fool me,_ Sigyn thought miserably. Still, she kept her emotions in check. “I want nothing more than the fighting between our Realms to stop.”  
      
    “Do you really?”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said, keeping herself from snapping at him. Only barely. “I do. The Allfather does as well, does he not? And your Mother? And--” Sigyn trailed off, staring at him. “And you?” she asked, her voice quiet with sudden realization.  
      
    Loki leaned back in his chair, his gaze growing distant. Her heart dropped when she saw his expression and how he didn’t immediately answer. What if he didn’t? What if he wanted the Jotnar gone from the Realms?  
      
    “It’s a childish fantasy,” he finally answered. “We play at peace, but there can never be any such thing between the two. It will always be broken at one point, and the fighting will begin anew.”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said, unable to stop herself. “And your brother was the one who broke it, this time.”  
      
    “And Laufey was the one who continued the war,” Loki said, his tone sharp. “And the Jotuns who came here to steal the Casket were the ones to break the peace in the first place, not Thor.”  
      
    “Are we to be punished for wanting the Casket back?” Sigyn asked. “It is what we used to create our buildings and our cities--places where we could live comfortably with our families and friends. When it was stolen from us, our cities began to crumble. Laufey used it for ill, it is true, but what King does not wish to make his kingdom bigger? Is the whole of Jotunheim to be punished for one King’s cruel arrogance?”   
      
    Her glass of meade began to freeze over, as did the rim of her plate. Sigyn caught it in time and forced herself to calm down before the frost could spread. She took several deep breaths, closing her eyes and clenching her hands together in her lap.   
      
    _Do not think about it_ , she told herself. _Do not think about how your Mother died_.   
      
    “You speak oddly for one who was taken under Laufey’s wing when she had nowhere else to go,” Loki said at length. “One would expect more loyalty and love for him.”  
      
    “He was my King,” Sigyn said evenly. “But that did not mean I agreed with all of his actions. He only allowed me to stay with his family because Farbauti convinced him.”   
      
    Loki leaned forward again, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Whose side are you on, Sigyn?”  
      
    She swallowed thickly, suddenly aware of the danger she had put herself in. What had she been thinking, speaking against the future King of Asgard in such a way? He would tell Odin, and the Allfather would punish her severely for this. Or maybe even killed. What she’d said was treason, wasn’t it?  
      
    “I am on the side that wishes to see Jotunheim and Asgard at peace,” Sigyn said, voice cracking. “I do not want to see any more unnecessary bloodshed. That is all.”  
      
    Loki didn’t respond, and moments later the door opened to reveal Frigga again. Sigyn quickly glanced over her cup and plate to make certain the frost had disappeared, then forced a smile as the Queen rejoined them.  
      
    “I’m sorry for that,” Frigga said. “There was some business to take care of.” She glanced between Loki and Sigyn, seemingly catching on to the fact that she had missed something. “Is something wrong?”  
      
    “No, my Queen,” Sigyn said, and thankfully her voice betrayed nothing of her emotions. “Prince Loki and I were only talking.”  
      
    “About what?” Frigga asked, and Sigyn faltered.  
      
    “Merely getting to know each other, Mother,” Loki said smoothly.  
      
    Sigyn nodded. “Prince Loki has been very kind to me,” she said, glad that she was able to sound sincere enough. She went back to her meal, knowing she could not excuse herself, and Frigga did the same after a moment’s pause.  
      
    She did not look at Loki again for the remainder of the meal.  
      
    --  
          
    “Where were you?” Sigyn demanded when the door to Helblindi’s chambers opened. “Where have you been?”  
      
    Helblindi barely spared her a glance. “I have been here. As always.”  
      
    “You cannot hide here forever,” Sigyn said, going into his chambers with no hesitation. Dagný and the other servant waited outside, and the door closed on them. It’d taken quite a bit to persuade them to leave her alone with them again, after last time, but finally Dagný had relented. “You have a duty, same as I do.”  
      
    “Singing that same song, are we?” Helblindi asked, sounding bored. “You should get a new one, smaen.”  
      
    “Helblindi,” she said, and something in her tone made him glance over at her. “The Allfather will begin wondering why you are not joining the rest of us during the feasts. Or never coming out of this room. If you anger him, do you know what he will do to you?”  
      
    “He cannot do anything,” Helblindi said. “I am a hostage, and he cannot harm me unless he wants to render the negotiations broken.”  
      
    Sigyn paused, horror filling her. “Is that your intention? You want him angry at you, to hurt you, so that Laufey will know and declare war again?”  
      
    “If it were, do you think I would tell you so you can go running off to the Bloody King and tell him?”  
      
    “There are no messengers going to Jotunheim,” Sigyn lied. “No one will ever know if he has hurt you.”  
      
    “Perhaps not,” Helblindi said, and it occured to Sigyn then just how tired he sounded. “But I am still right. He can do nothing to me. I have nothing to fear from the Allfather.”  
      
    _Oh Helblindi_ , she thought sadly, _you have everything to fear_.  
      
    She was silent a long moment before saying, “I know we are not close, and I know you hate me. But I truly do only want what is best for you--for both of us. It is not ideal to be hostages, I know, but... we could change things. We could help Jotunheim. You cannot do that if you fall out of the Allfather’s favour. And I would not become so comfortable in my position as hostage as you are.”  
      
    “Is that why you are doing this? Because you are more worried for yourself than me?” Helblindi asked. “Worried that if I disobey my captors, they will punish you as well?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said, frustrated. “No, you damned idiot. I am worried about you! About Jotunheim and our people, about what should happen if this truce fails. You say that the only way Jotunheim will ever know peace is if we kill every Aesir and watch Asgard burn, but that is not the only way. I refuse to believe it is the only way.”  
      
    A heavy silence fell between them, loud after Sigyn’s near shouting. She took a deep breath, realizing what she had called Helblindi. But strangely, she felt no fear. She was past caring if she offended him, or if he would hit her again. He was not the Allfather, or Frigga, or Loki, or even Dagný; he was not someone she had to fear and cower around, and she refused to do so now.   
      
    She may regret losing her temper later, but not now.   
      
    “You could bring peace to Jotunheim,” Sigyn said, quieter this time. “You could do what your Father could not. Unite Asgard and Jotunheim, and bring about an age of peace.”  
      
    Helblindi’s red eyes found hers, and she could not read the expression in them. “Get out,” he said at length, and Sigyn felt her shoulders sag. She nodded and did as he said, sighing as the door closed behind her.  
      
    “Are you alright?” Dagný asked, looking her over.  
      
    “I am fine,” Sigyn said. “Only disappointed.” She should not even have been that; she knew Helblindi would ignore her and disregard anything she said. That damnable hope had caught her again, though, and made her believe she could sway him.   
      
    Perhaps she should have waited a while before going to him. She’d come straight from her meal with Loki and Frigga to Helblindi, and she was still infuriated and upset over her conversation with Loki. He’d said nothing else to her past a few pleasantries, no matter how often Frigga prodded him, and she had done the same. When she’d finally escaped, she barely kept herself from running away from him.  
      
    It was too much disappointment for one day, Sigyn decided. She nodded to Dagný and the servant hesitated before leading her back to her chamber.   
      
    _Well_ , Sigyn thought, _if Helblindi is determined to hide away forever, it falls to me. I must do what I can for Jotunheim and my kin. I will do what Helblindi refuses to do and what Laufey cannot; I will try to keep the peace._  
      
    She ignored the sliver of fear that ran through her at the thought, or the doubt that one such as herself could ever have that kind of impact on anything. She would do the right thing, as she had always done, and hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly love at first sight, eh?


	7. The Einherji

    “Good morning, my Queen.”  
      
    “Sigyn,” Frigga said with a slightly exasperated smile, “how many times must I tell you to call me Frigga?”  
      
    Sigyn returned the smile with one of her own, shrugging. “It is hard to not be polite.”  
      
    As if to punctuate her point, she did a low curtsey to the Queen, holding out the skirt of her yellow dress. She had practiced it all night until her legs ached and cramped, but Sigyn knew she’d finally perfected it. She’d also told Dagny to wake her early and help her prepare for breakfast with Frigga. If she was going to keep her vow in helping Asgard and Jotunheim to peace, Sigyn thought it appropriate to dress and be styled in a manner befitting an Aesir woman.  
      
    It still felt out of place on her, the dress and the loose hairstyle. But once things were settled between the Realms, she would ask to have more dresses made in the Jotun style. She would not have to look like an Aesir forever.   
      
    “Well, you look beautiful,” Frigga said, eyeing the gown. Sigyn did not miss the implications she’d made in choosing a yellow dress;    she could not wear gold, as that was one of the royal family’s colours. But yellow was close enough, and she hoped people would take it as a sign that she was loyal to Asgard. “And you’re very early.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled as she rose from the curtsey. “It is good to be early, yes?”  
      
    The servants set their places at the table. Sigyn tried not to remember the disastrous conversation she’d had with Loki in the same room the day before. She’d spent the night terrified that Odin would come for her, but when he did not, she supposed that once again Loki must have kept quiet about it.  
      
    _Only because he is watching me himself,_ she thought, _waiting for me to make a mistake that will give me away._ She glanced down at herself when she sat down, suddenly worried. Perhaps it had not been a good idea to be so blatant with her dress and hair. Would Loki look at her today and think she’s trying to prove something?  
      
    _I do not wish to go around fearing what Loki may or may not do,_ Sigyn thought. _But I must be careful of him as well._ Tomorrow she would be more considerate in choosing her dress.  
      
    “So,” Frigga said, once their breakfast had been laid out before them. “Did Loki truly treat you well while I was gone yesterday?”  
      
    “Of course, my Queen,” Sigyn said, her tone utterly sincere. “He was very charming.”  
      
    Frigga stared at her until Sigyn felt herself falter. “I know my son,” she said at length. “And I know that sometimes, he is the very opposite of charming.”  
      
    Sigyn shrugged. “If he is, he was not such to me.”  
      
    “I do want you to feel safe in coming to me for anything,” Frigga continued.   
      
    She paused briefly in buttering her bread. “I do feel safe in coming to you.”  
      
    “And you do not have to lie to protect yourself,” Frigga said. “I know it’s difficult being here, my dear. Truly. You miss your home and your friends, and the life you had there. I know you feel unsafe. But I don’t want you to feel that way anymore. I want you to know you’re protected.”  
      
    _And if I said your son was the one I needed protecting from, what would you do?_  
      
    Sigyn smiled and nodded. “I know I am protected, Frigga. I do. You will not let any harm come to me or Helblindi.”  
      
    “That’s right,” Frigga said with a nod. There was a brief silence as Frigga continued to stare at her and Sigyn resolutely looked down at her plate. “But I can only do that if you tell me the truth.”  
      
    Sigyn took a sip of the cider, stalling for time. “Prince Loki was more... absent than unkind, my Queen. I think he is very concerned with other matters. He apologized for it, before you returned.” Sigyn smiled again, tighter this time. How long would Frigga keep asking her about this? “I know he is the heir to the throne now, so he must be very busy, yes? I did not mind that he was too absent to speak with me very much.”  
      
    “Yes,” Frigga murmured. “In that case, I’m happy to hear you both got along.”  
      
    “We did.”   
      
    Frigga nodded again and turned back to her meal. Sigyn studied her expression before glancing away. The Queen seemed absent herself now, and troubled. She hesitated slightly before asking, “Is everything well, my Queen?”  
      
    That brought Frigga out of her thoughts. “Yes, forgive me. I was kept awake late into the night with other matters.” She began to eat again and Sigyn decided to let it go. “Sigyn, tell me. You said yesterday that you had very few people close to you, in Jotunheim.”  
      
    “Yes?”  
      
    Frigga shifted, seemingly uncertain about how to phrase what she said next. “Did you have any... significant others?”  
      
    Sigyn frowned in confusion. “I do not understand.”  
      
    “Did you have a partner?” Frigga tried again. “Someone you loved and, ah, bedded?”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, eyes widening. “I--er--um,” she fumbled, embarrassed. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Not for two decades, my Queen. And only the one person.”  
      
    She could not understand the expression on the Queen’s face. She seemed relieved, but the troubled lines around her mouth did not lessen. “I see. I’m sorry for asking that so suddenly, it’s only that I had hoped you had someone. Or, I hoped you did and I hoped you didn’t, at the same time.”  
      
    When Frigga saw Sigyn’s increasingly confused expression, she elaborated. “I hate the thought of you being alone. You deserve to have many friends and loved ones, Sigyn; you’re a beautiful, kind girl. But if you didn’t, it means we did not separate you from the one you loved. That’s something to be thankful for, in a way.”  
      
    Sigyn looked away and took a bite of her fruit, something she could not identify. The tangy taste made her blink hard and bite her cheeks. Finally, she thought of something to say. “That is kind of you.” It felt woefully inadequate, but it was all she could think of.  
      
    Frigga allowed silence to fall between them again, much to Sigyn’s relief. She would rather talk about the weather, an altogether boring subject, than go through that strange conversation again. When they finished with their breakfast, they withdrew to Frigga’s sitting room where the other ladies would join them. A nervous flutter would not leave her, no matter how much Sigyn tried to ignore it. The last time she had been around them, things had not gone well.  
      
    Freyja entered as soon as Frigga had picked up the dress she was working on. The woman took one glance at Sigyn’s dress and smirked, and Sigyn immediately knew she’d been right in fearing she was being too obvious. Trying not to let Freyja’s judgment get to her, she stood and curtseyed to Freyja as well.  
      
    “Oh, don’t,” Freyja said with a wave of her hand, pulling Sigyn back up to her feet. “I won’t curtsey to you, so don’t do it to me.”  
      
    Sigyn said nothing, wondering why both she and the Queen were so determined to get her to act inappropriately. She smiled nonetheless and went to take her seat by Frigga again.   
      
    Freyja came to sit next to her. “You look very beautiful this morning, Sigyn.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said, wondering if they found her beautiful in her Jotun clothes too.  
      
    Freyja leaned in and pitched her voice lower, so that Frigga could not hear. “Though some may say you’re trying to prove something.”  
      
    “I am not,” Sigyn said, unease creeping down her spine. “Truly.”  
      
    “I know, dear,” Freyja said. “You’re so earnest about it, it comes across as sweet and adorable instead of conniving. At least to me. Others may not be so understanding.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard, glancing over at the Queen as she rose to greet the ladies who were just arriving. “Will I get into trouble?”  
      
    “No,” Freyja said. “People will assume Frigga was the one to dress you. The suspicion will be directed at her, not you.”  
      
    Sigyn kept herself from physically reacting in any way to that, even when her heart dropped. Causing people to cast judgment on Frigga had not been her intention, either. “Should I change, after this is done?”  
      
    “No, because then they’ll think you’ve something to be ashamed about. As if your sincerity is something to hide.” Freyja sighed, leaning back into her own chair. “You’ll learn how to do all this eventually. But for tomorrow, wear the purple dress instead.”  
      
    “Sigyn,” the Queen said, making her jump slightly. “Why don’t you come over and say hello?”  
      
    She rose and went over to the two young girls who were standing with Frigga. They were both shorter than her, and if she remembered correctly, a little younger as well. One had long black hair and eyes the colour of ice; another had dark skin and kind, wide brown eyes. They both looked at her with thinly veiled curiousity.   
      
    “Sigyn, this is Lofn,” Frigga said, motioning to the girl with the dark skin, “and Nanna.”   
      
    Sigyn curtseyed and managed a small smile. “It is good to meet you both.”  
      
    “And you,” Lofn said.   
      
    “A pleasure,” Nanna said, her voice quiet. Not from fear or dislike, Sigyn thought, but shyness. Sigyn took an immediate liking to her; shyness was something she was well familiar with.  
      
    “I was wondering, perhaps, if you three would like to become companions?” Frigga offered, and Sigyn thought it a strange thing to ask of them when they hardly knew each other.  
      
    Still, Lofn and Nanna bowed their heads to the Queen. “Yes, my Queen,” they said in unison, and Frigga smiled broadly at Sigyn.  
      
    “I’ll leave you three to become acquainted, then.”  
      
    Sigyn glanced over her shoulder to Freyja, who was watching the scene with a contemplative look on her face. When she was caught staring, Freyja gave Sigyn a small smile and turned away.   
      
    Sigyn followed Lofn and Nanna to their seats and took an empty one in between them. She felt like an intruder, given how closely together they always sat. Neither one of them seemed to care as they pulled out their dresses, however.   
      
    “Have you learned how to embroider yet?” Nanna asked, smoothing out the bright blue skirt in her lap.   
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “The Queen has been trying to teach me, but she has been very busy as well. I have only learned one or two things.”  
      
    “It’s easy,” Lofn said, her own dress a bold orange. She was nearly done with the hem of her skirt, Sigyn saw. Her embroidery was beautiful, with the littlest details on the petals of the flowers visible. “Do you learn better by watching or by doing?”  
      
    “Seeing first,” Sigyn said, surprised at how easy their conversation was going, “and then by doing.”  
      
    “Then watch me,” Nanna said. “Lofn goes too fast.”  
      
    “It’s not my fault you embroider slowly,” Lofn said, and if she could have gotten away with sticking her tongue out, Sigyn suspected she would have.   
      
    Sigyn bit her bottom lip, but a quiet laugh still escaped her. Lofn and Nanna glanced at her in surprise, then smiled and broke out into laughter themselves.   
      
    “So,” Nanna began, “who are you hoping will dance with you at the summer festival?”  
      
    It took Sigyn a second to realize Nanna wasn’t speaking to her, but to Lofn. “You know who,” Lofn said, grinning.   
      
    They _were_ young, Sigyn realized. Young enough to be giggling over men and the idea of dancing with them. She felt a little out of place again. It’d been decades since she was that young, and even then, she did not have many men or women to giggle over and dream about.   
      
    “But what if he doesn’t show up? What will you do then?”  
      
    “Then I’ll dance with whoever I like,” Lofn announced, raising her chin. “It’s his fault if he misses out.” Lofn grinned and leaned in to Nanna. “I know who you’re saving a dance for.”  
      
    Nanna’s cheeks tinged pink and she looked studiously at her fabric. “I’ve not the slightest idea who you--”  
      
    “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on from Baldr,” Lofn said. “I shan’t believe a word of it.”  
      
    Nanna hunched in further, her blush deepening, and Sigyn bit back a laugh.  
      
    “Do not torture the poor girl,” Sigyn said. “Have mercy, my lady.”  
      
    Nanna smiled at Sigyn and she returned it, happy for the gratitude. Lofn snickered and went back to her own embroidery. For a while all was quiet between them until Nanna spoke up. “Are you going to the summer festivals as well?”  
      
    “I do not know,” Sigyn said honestly. “It is up to the Queen, yes?”  
      
    “True,” Nanna said. “I think she’ll let you, though. They’re so much fun, and everyone will be there.”  
      
    “Have you a dress yet?” Lofn asked.  
      
    “Oh, if not, you must get one!” Nanna said, seemingly over her shyness now that Sigyn had been around for a little while. “A red dress would look beautiful on you.”  
      
    “Red is for autumn,” Lofn said. “I think a green dress would look best on her, for summer. A bright green, not a mild one.”  
      
    Sigyn attempted to keep up with the conversation, but eventually gave up and watched them with amusement. It was easy to be around these girls. She did not have to worry about offending them as she did Freyja or Frigga. Even better, they seemed to like her... or so she supposed. At least they weren’t ignoring her.   
      
    At the same time, it made her miss Angrboda deeply and, by extension, Jotunheim as well. There was never a moment when she did not miss Jotunheim. She would carry a longing for it until the day she died, and it would always be heavy. Asgard was beautiful, but it was not the same.  
      
    “What do you think?”  
      
    Sigyn started out of her thoughts and stared at Nanna. “What?”  
      
    “I asked you what dress you might prefer,” Nanna said. “Lofn and I were going on as if you weren’t here, and we’re so sorry for that. So, what dress might you like to wear?”  
      
    “Oh, I--I do not know,” Sigyn said. “Dresses are very new to me.”  
      
    “Then we’ll take you to the dressmakers and help you choose,” Lofn said. “A shame Lady Freyja did not think of it herself.”  
      
    “But she did not know if I am going.”  
      
    Lofn shrugged. “Either way, I need to go get some more fabric myself, and Nanna likes to look. We’ll go with you, if the Queen says it’s okay.”   
      
    The morning passed slowly. Near the end of the gathering, Nanna handed Sigyn some fabric should could practice with, upon which she found out that she was not the best at embroidery. Nanna merely shrugged when she saw it and reassured her that she had time to learn. Then she and Lofn went to the Queen to ask to take Sigyn down to the dressmakers, while Sigyn stayed back and watched nervously.   
      
    Frigga must have approved of the idea, for Lofn and Nanna returned soon and began to lead her down to the dressmakers. What followed was another long period of time spent being poked and prodded at by strangers, and being ignored as well. Nanna and Lofn did most of the talking, which Sigyn was fine with. In the end, they decided upon another yellow gown in a slightly darker shade than the one Sigyn was wearing.   
      
    The two girls had fought valiantly to convince her to wear a green one, but Sigyn had refused. Green was well known to be the colour the Jotuns were fond of. She did not want to give anyone cause to think that she still had some loyalty left to Laufey.  
      
    “Now, as for embroidering it...” Nanna began, fingering the fabric as if testing how thick it was, “since it’s for the summer festivals, you need to embroider flowers, wheat, fruits, the things associated with summer.”  
      
    Sigyn gave her a blank look, which caused Nanna to pause. “We do not have this summer on Jotunheim,” Sigyn said slowly, uncertainly.  
      
    Nanna blinked, then blushed in embarrassment. “Oh, of course you don’t, forgive me--”  
      
    “No, no, it is fine,” Sigyn reassured her hurriedly. “It is just, I may need help?”  
      
    “We can help you,” Lofn said. “We’ll draw pictures and take you to see the things you’ll be embroidering. Since you’ve a yellow dress, you can’t do wheat, it’ll blend right in. But some nice flowers and fruits and the custom runes would be nice.”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn agreed, though it was still all going a bit over her head.   
      
    “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Nanna said with a smile.  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said as the two girls led her out of the dressmakers. When Lofn suggested they take a walk through the freshly bloomed gardens, Sigyn hesitated. “The Queen did not say I could go.”  
      
    “It’ll be fine,” Lofn said. “The gardens are enclosed, so only the royals and nobles can visit, and the servants of course. You will not be on display for all of Asgard to see.”  
      
    “Please come,” Nanna said. “It’s gorgeous when everything’s just bloomed, and the fresh air will do you good.”  
      
    Sigyn could not argue with that. She’d been locked away in Gladsheim for so long, being outside again for just a few short moments would be wonderful. She finally nodded and followed them as they began navigating the corridors. When they came upon the doors to the outside, Sigyn hesitated briefly once again before stepping out. She was half certain that the guards would immediately call her back, but they said nothing, simply watched her before glancing away again. They seemed to trust Lofn and Nanna to keep an eye on her.  
      
    Outside of Gladsheim’s walls, Sigyn could better smell the scent of the far off sea. She took a deep breath of it and let the breeze wash over her, tasting the salt it carried on her tongue. It was not overly hot, much to her surprise. The sun was too bright, but she solved that issue by staying in Gladsheim’s shadow while she followed Lofn and Nanna around the walls.  
      
    However, when Sigyn heard the echoes of shouts and weapons clanging against each other, she tensed. Just as she was about to bring it up with Lofn and Nanna, the two girls exchanged an excited look.  
      
    “The Einherjar are out training,” Nanna said, excitedly. “We have to go see.”  
      
    “What would your mother think if she knew you were spying on the Einherji, just for a chance to see a few without their tunics on?”  
      
    “Lofn!”  
      
    Sigyn said nothing, falling back from them as they ran off laughing. She kept them in her eyesight and knew when they had gotten close to the training yard; as the shouts had gotten louder, Lofn and Nanna got quieter so they would not be found. They had done this before, it seemed.  
      
    Nanna turned around to see Sigyn lagging behind when they made it to a low rise wall. She motioned for Sigyn to join them, so she did, reluctantly. She did not much want to see or hear these things. It reminded her too much of what the war had sounded like.  
      
    Still, she stood on her tiptoes to look over the top of the wall. The Einherjar were in their training clothes and, indeed, some of them were not wearing tunics. They stood in formation on the green ground while another stood at their head, yelling orders. Lofn and Nanna giggled again, and Sigyn smiled despite herself.   
  
    If she ignored the weapons clashing against each other, she supposed she could enjoy the bodies the Einherjar had. Some of them were pale, others had dark skin like Lofn’s, but all of them had the same muscles. They weren’t bad, though not what she was attracted to herself.  
      
    Then her gaze caught one Einherji in particular. Theoric was there, an intense look of concentration on his face, his body teeming with power as he trained with the sword in his hand. Sigyn immediately fell back on the flats of her feet, hiding behind the wall before he could see her. Hopefully he had missed her entirely. A sudden anxiety overtook her and she stepped away.  
      
    “We should go,” Sigyn said. “Please? We should not be intruding.”  
      
    “They won’t hurt us,” Lofn said.  
      
    _Then why are we hiding?_ Sigyn wondered. “I do not wish to linger,” Sigyn said. “The Queen might miss me. Do you not want to see the gardens before it has been too long?”  
      
    Nanna glanced back at her, pausing. Then she nodded. “We should go, Lofn.”  
      
    The other girl sighed, clearly outnumbered in her desires. “Alright, alright,” she said. “But if they’re still out when we come back, we’re staying.”  
      
    Sigyn sighed in relief and they all began making their way out. As they walked the shouts suddenly died off, causing Sigyn to stop walking entirely. Usually when shouts were cut off like that, it meant everyone making them had died quickly. At least, that’s what it had meant in the war.   
      
    Instead, it apparently meant that the men were free to rest for a few minutes, as some of them came out to the water basins that were lined next to Gladsheim. Sigyn immediately turned and kept walking, causing Lofn and Nanna to hurry after her. She didn’t care if she was going in the wrong direction for the gardens. As long as she got away from the training yard.  
      
    She was not fast enough.  
      
    “My ladies!”  
      
    Lofn and Nanna stopped immediately and turned around, while Sigyn cursed herself for a fool. She shouldn’t have lingered. She should have left Lofn and Nanna to their games and stayed back, out of sight.   
      
    “Theoric,” Nanna said. “We don’t wish to keep you from your training.”  
      
    “You aren’t,” he reassured her. Sigyn hoped that if she kept her back to him, he would ignore her. “I didn’t realize you were friends with the Lady Sigyn.”  
      
    “Yes,” Lofn said. “Queen Frigga only just introduced us this morning, but we’re quite fond of her.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. Were they truly?   
      
    “Sigyn?” Nanna asked, putting a hand on Sigyn’s arm and causing her to startle. “Are you well?”  
      
    “I am fine, yes,” Sigyn said, slowly turning around to face Theoric. He had put on a tunic before he came running after her, at least. “Hello.”  
      
    “Hello,” Theoric said with a smile. “I was wondering if I’d get to speak with you again.”  
      
    Thankfully, Lofn and Nanna did not react to that as Sigyn feared they would. Lofn merely rose an eyebrow, but nothing else, and Nanna kept her smile in place. Sigyn shifted uneasily and managed a smile of her own.  
      
    “I am not hard to find in Gladsheim, and I am certain the Queen would not mind if you visited me,” she said politely. “Though I do not know if I would be suitable company for an Einherji.”  
      
    “Nonsense,” Theoric said. “You’d be fine company.” He glanced at both Lofn and Nanna, clearly wondering how to politely ask them to leave her alone with him.   
      
    They caught on to his expression quickly. “Oh, well,” Nanna said, “if you wanted to speak with her now, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind it. It’s only, we were going to the gardens, and since the Queen has tasked us with taking care of her then we cannot leave her behind. I’m certain you understand.”  
      
    Theoric opened his mouth to respond, but Lofn cut in quickly. “But of course we can walk behind you both and give you some privacy, if you have need. Technically that’s not leaving her behind, and she’s still in our sights that way.”  
      
    Sigyn wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Irritation crept up on her that they made this decision without asking her first, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to hate them for it. They were too well meaning to be hated.  
      
    Theoric met Sigyn’s gaze. “If that is what the Lady Sigyn wishes, then I will oblige. My lady?”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard, surprised he was giving her the option. For a brief moment she considered denying him. But that would have been rude, and she would have disappointed everyone, and besides that... she had to admit she was curious about what he would say. He was treating her kindly enough, and she did not get that as much as she wanted in Asgard.   
      
    Finally she nodded, not trusting her voice. Lofn and Nanna smiled at her and stepped away, allowing Theoric to step up to Sigyn’s side. They both began walking, and true to their word, Lofn and Nanna stayed far enough back that they could not hear a single word either one of them said.  
      
    Theoric was silent at first, waiting until they had passed most of the Einherjar before speaking. “Did you mean what you said, that I could come and visit you whenever I liked?”  
      
    “Not whenever,” Sigyn said truthfully. “I do have duties to attend to, sometimes.”  
      
    He laughed, startling her a tad. It was so loud and free. “Of course,” he said apologetically. “Truly, I was only hoping we could speak.”  
      
    “Yes?”  
      
    Theoric glanced down to the ground, seeming entranced by the sight of his feet moving beneath him. “I meant what I said before, at the feast. If you ever have need of anything, you should only ask me. I would be happy to help.”  
      
    “I do not need anything,” Sigyn said carefully. “Please do not think you owe me anything, you do not. I was only doing my duty.”  
      
    Theoric frowned, glancing up at her. “You were doing more than that. Your duty was to save your own people, not the enemy.”  
      
    Sigyn cringed and shot a look around her to see if anyone could hear them. No one was around save for Lofn and Nanna, and they were engrossed in their own conversation. Still, she was not comfortable having this conversation outside--or anywhere, for that matter. She wanted to bury the issue and never bring it up again.  
      
    “We’re fine,” Theoric said, catching on to her fear. “No one can hear us. Trust me.”  
      
    Sigyn gave him a sidelong look before turning away. They had reached the outer walls of the gardens now; she could tell by the green leaves that grew with abandon on the white stone. “My duty is to people,” she said at length. “Not to loyalties or kings or sides.”  
      
    “That wouldn’t have mattered to most people.”  
      
    “I am not most people.”  
      
    Theoric smiled, staring at her for an uncomfortably long time. “No, you aren’t.”  
      
    Sigyn held herself, trying not to meet his gaze. “What is it you want?”  
      
    “I want to offer you my friendship,” Theoric said, his tone quiet and serious. And utterly sincere. “Or at least an--an alliance, of sorts. I want to repay you for the kindness you showed me.”  
      
    Sigyn stopped and turned to look at him. Theoric stopped in surprise, as did Lofn and Nanna, though they still stayed far back. “You do not even know me,” Sigyn said flatly, staring at him. “You feel as if you must repay me for doing what I thought was right. I do not need any reward for it. If you wish to repay me, then never bring it up again, please.”  
      
    “Why not?” Theoric asked. “Why shouldn’t I bring it up? It was tremendous, what you did. You went out into a battlefield and you saw a wounded soldier of the enemy camp, and you chose to save him. You saved my life, Sigyn. You should be telling everyone, maybe they’d start treating you better then.”  
      
    “I would not use it as a way to garner adoration,” Sigyn said, her voice rising. She caught herself and took a deep breath. “What I did would have had me executed, if Laufey ever found out. It was forbidden, and I would rather it never be brought up again. And if the Aesir knew I had--” Sigyn paused, looking around once more.   
      
    “Magic,” Theoric finished for her, his voice barely a whisper.  
      
    She swallowed thickly. “Yes. If they knew I had that, they would never trust me. That sort of thing, it is not accepted in Asgard.”  
      
    “It’s more acceptable for a woman to practice magic,” Theoric said. “Domestic magic, and healing magic.”  
      
    She noticed he did not entirely deny the Aesir’s hatred of magic. She did not bother to explain to him why the combination of her being a witch and a Jotun would make her more reviled and distrusted in Asgard.   
      
    “Why are you so insistent on ignoring my wishes?”  
      
    There was a tense silence as Theoric breathed heavily, and it occurred to Sigyn a second too late that he was angry at her. Her own temper flared in response. She’d had enough of the Aesir getting irate at her for no good reason; first Loki, and now Theoric? It was too much to expect her to endure in silence. If either one of them thought they could get angry at her attempts to survive, they were truly mistaken.  
      
    Then Theoric ran a hand through his hair, parts of it still slick from his training. “I want to know why. Why me? Out of everyone on that battlefield, every soldier that lay dying, why did you choose me to save?”  
      
    The anger left her, making her shoulders sag and her heart drop. Of course that was it; she’d been stupid not to think of it before. She saw this sometimes in her kin who had gone through the last great war; they wondered why they had lived and their loved ones had not. The guilt never left them.  
      
    It must have been worse for Theoric, she thought. He would have died had she not snuck out of Laufey’s castle that night and gone out onto the battlefield. She had chosen him specifically, by chance, and that would only make the guilt worse.   
      
    Sigyn looked back at Nanna and Lofn, who were openly staring at both of them. She turned around and kept walking, and Theoric caught up to her a moment later.   
      
    “You were the closest,” Sigyn said simply, with a small shrug. “The one I knew who had the best chance of living. The rest... they were very far gone. Most were already drifting when I approached, and they had lost too much blood. But you were still breathing, alive and awake, though perhaps not all there in your mind.”  
      
    “Is that all?” Theoric asked, sounding disappointed.   
      
    Sigyn smiled grimly. “What do you want me to say? That you looked at me and begged for help, even though I was your enemy? That you still held on to your sword as you lay in your own blood, but when you saw me you let go of it and reached out to me instead? I have told you the truth; if you had wanted a story, you should have told me so.”  
      
    It was not the whole truth. Theoric must not have remembered it clearly, but she did. When he saw her, he had gripped his sword tightly and yelled at her to stay away. He’d thought she was coming to kill him.   
      
    But he did not need to know that. Sigyn would spare him that much. She could see he believed very well of himself, certainly too well to think he had almost raised a sword against her. She would not shatter that illusion.  
      
    “I know you feel guilty,” she continued quietly. “I am sorry for that. But I do not have the answer you wish I did, to help make it go away.”  
      
    Theoric let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair again. “You are,” he began, “exceedingly blunt.”  
      
    “I am honest.”  
      
    “Bluntly honest,” Theoric said, and Sigyn surprised herself by laughing. His smile widened and she quickly caught herself. His long stares and his broad smiles made her uncomfortable for a reason she couldn’t quite figure out yet. Theoric liked her, that much was plain to see, and it surprised her. But something about his liking made her uneasy.  
      
    Sigyn brushed a strand of hair out of her face and gave him a careful smile. “As long as you do not mind my blunt nature,” she said. “I shall not apologize for it.”  
      
    “No, there’s no need to apologize,” Theoric said. “I appreciate your honesty. Do you still reject my offer of friendship?”  
      
    Sigyn paused. “Friends are nice,” she said at length. “But first perhaps we should know each other before we call ourselves friends.”  
      
    He seemed disappointed again, but nodded all the same. “Acquaintances, then.”  
      
    “Yes, that,” Sigyn said, knowing she should not even attempt to repeat the word. They came upon an entrance that looked to be for the gardens; Sigyn could see colourful bursts of plants from where she stood. She smiled at Theoric, more broadly this time, and motioned to Lofn and Nanna. “We should go, unless you want to walk with us through the gardens.”  
      
    “Alas,” Theoric said, “I must go back to the training yard. But I do hope to see you at the feast again tonight.”  
      
    “Tonight,” Sigyn agreed, and watched him as he left. When he was far enough away, Lofn and Nanna converged on her.   
      
    “What did you talk about? It seemed very serious,” Nanna asked.  
      
    “We thought we’d have to interrupt you two, when you were staring at each other so intently,” Lofn added. “Was he upset about something?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “It was nothing, truly. We were only talking.”  
      
    They both seemed disappointed in that. She liked them, but she did not want to talk to them about this sort of thing--they were too young to truly understand it, and besides, it was safer to keep it to herself. She followed them into the gardens and let her worries wash away for a while in the calming space. Sigyn decided she would think on Theoric later; for now, she would enjoy a rare moment of relative freedom.[ **  
**](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7906022/6/)


	8. Rising Tensions

    They left the gardens a few hours later, when the heat of the day became too much for Sigyn. The two girls had taken handfuls of Sigyn’s favourite flowers, small light purple ones no bigger than her fingernails, and entwined them into her hair. It’d taken quite a lot of persuasion from Lofn and Nanna, but finally Sigyn had relented.    
      
    It was an Aesir custom, or so Lofn and Nanna told her. Unmarried maidens wore flowers in their hair during the spring festivals, they said, and married women wore jeweled flower hair ornaments. When Sigyn pointed out that she was not an Aesir maiden, they hushed her and continued with their work.  
      
    She didn’t mind it, in the end. Dagný might when she saw how many flowers she’d have to take out, but for now Sigyn simply smiled as she followed the two girls back into Gladsheim. She even felt a little pretty, which was not something she experienced often.  
      
    “I suppose we should go for the midday,” Lofn said, linking her arm with Nanna’s. Sigyn kept her arms to herself. “Though it’s rather late for it.”  
      
    “There’ll still be some food out,” Nanna said. “Apples, and the other fruit.”  
      
    They both glanced to Sigyn to see her answer, but before she could say anything, her gaze caught something dark turning around a corner. She faltered briefly as Loki approached and met her stare.   
      
    “Oh,” Lofn said, stopping. Sigyn had no choice but to stop with them. Lofn and Nanna dipped into curtseys and, belatedly, so did Sigyn. “Prince Loki.”  
      
    “My ladies,” Loki said politely, though he offered no smile. “My Mother missed you at the midday meal.”  
      
    “We took Lady Sigyn to see the gardens,” Nanna explained softly. “The Queen wished for us to become acquaintances, so we spent the time there getting to know one another.”  
      
    “I hope she’s in no trouble for being absent?” Lofn asked.   
      
    “No,” Loki said. “Nothing like that. But she did seem eager to speak with Lady Sigyn. Would you mind if I walked her to my Mother’s chambers?”  
      
    Lofn and Nanna both looked at her, leaving her with the choice. Sigyn managed a smile and nodded. “I would be happy to go with you,” she said quietly, stepping away from Lofn and Nanna reluctantly. “I will see you tonight, yes?” she said to both of them when she saw their worried expressions.  
      
    “Of course,” Nanna said. She bowed her head to Loki, and Lofn did the same. “My Prince.”  
      
    “My ladies,” Loki said, already turning away from them. Sigyn took a deep breath to steady herself and caught up to him, taking up his side. When they had turned the corner, Loki spoke up. “What a lovely dress you’re wearing today, Lady Sigyn.”  
      
    And there it was. Sigyn bit back a sigh and inclined her head. “Thank you, my Prince. I chose it myself.” She did not wish to lie, and furthermore, she wanted to take some of the suspicion off of Frigga. Loki already suspected her and in truth, she did have an ulterior motive in choosing her yellow dress. What point was there in lying about it? “May I ask if you know what the Queen wishes to speak to me about?”  
      
    “I do not.” He offered nothing else, so Sigyn let the silence stretch on. After they turned a few more corners, she realized they were not going in the direction of Frigga’s chambers. Unease crept down her spine and settled in her stomach the longer they walked. Where was he taking her?  
      
    Finally they came upon a set of golden doors with designs on them. Loki waved a hand and they opened, and Sigyn stopped just outside to glance in.  
      
    It was a small chamber, made smaller by the stacks of books that littered every flat surface and corner available. She immediately knew that this was Loki’s private collection, or a place where he came to study them. She didn’t like the idea of being alone with him in a small room. Though, really, would he harm her? Sigyn had her doubts. If he were going to, he wouldn’t do it here; that might run some risk of getting his books dirty.  
      
    And besides, Sigyn didn’t truly think he meant her harm. He may not have liked her, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Or so she hoped.  
      
    Sigyn cast him a sidelong glance before stepping inside, the smell of dust and old paper overwhelming her at first. She smelled flowers and other unidentifiable things as well. They added a hint of sweetness to the musty air. It took her a moment to realize that there was a sturdy table underneath a large mountain of books, with a small square of space cleared off for papers and other things. There was a chair behind it, but she didn’t dare take it.   
      
    Loki followed her inside and the doors closed behind him. The unease had not yet turned into panic, but it did grow stronger. There were ways to harm a person without shedding blood, after all.  
      
    “The Queen did not want to speak with me, then,” Sigyn said bluntly, watching as Loki went to stand behind his table.   
      
    “No,” he said. “I did.”  
      
    “And why could you not simply ask that instead of saying she wished to see me?”  
      
    The corners of his mouth twitched upward, but his frown did not break. “If I had asked you to come with me to my private study, word might have gotten around. People would suspect me of bedding you, or taking impropriety in some other way.”  
      
    She hadn’t known what answer she’d been expecting from him. It hadn’t quite been that, though. “Oh,” Sigyn said. “All because I had spoken with you alone?”  
      
    “Yes. That’s all it takes.”  
      
    _That is stupid_ , Sigyn thought. “Thank you for explaining.”   
      
    Something in his expression shifted briefly before it was carefully blank again. Sigyn brushed a strand of hair out of her face, causing a flower to fall. She picked it up, glad for the distraction. “You have something you wish to say, my Prince?”  
      
    “Why did you not tell my Mother about what happened at the midday meal?”  
      
    Sigyn blinked, staring at him as she rose, the fallen flower in her hand. “I said I would not. I promised, yes?”  
      
    “And I’m to assume you always keep your promises?” Loki asked dryly.   
      
    “I do, if I can.”  
      
    Loki picked up a book and set it on top of a stack, watching her carefully. “You had every reason to tell her what happened. You would have earned me a lengthy reprimand after you’d left.”  
      
    Sigyn twirled the flower in between her fingers, disliking where this conversation was going. “What would that have proven? That I cannot keep my word? That I would be so willing to push someone into trouble as some sort of revenge?” She sighed, shaking her head and setting the flower down on a book. “Do you truly expect that of me? Am I that awful a person to you?”  
      
    Loki didn’t immediately answer, so Sigyn let her gaze wander to the various books that littered the chamber. Most of them were magic books, she realized when she read the spines of a few. Some did not have titles anywhere on their outsides at all. She reached for a seemingly blank one, then paused and let her hand fall back to her side. He wouldn’t like her touching his things, she thought.  
      
    “You’re a confusing person,” Loki said at last, and Sigyn met his gaze. “I cannot believe you’re entirely sincere. No one is that good.”  
      
    “That is a very sad way to look at people,” Sigyn said gently. “Or do you think I am so awful because I am Jotun?”  
      
    “I never said you were awful.”  
      
    “You treat me as if you believe that.”   
      
    “I don’t trust you,” Loki said simply. “There’s a difference.”  
      
    Sigyn let that go without answering. She was relatively certain you could still treat someone nicely even if you didn’t trust them. She’d done it in Jotunheim, after all.   
      
    “Is that all you wanted of me, my Prince?”  
      
    “No,” Loki said, readjusting some papers on his table. He seemed to fiddle with things when he was uncertain, she’d noticed. “I wanted to know if you were sincere when you said you wanted to bring Jotunheim and Asgard to peace.”  
      
    “I was,” Sigyn said, tilting her head to the side. “That is why I offered myself as a hostage, so that could become a reality one day.”  
      
    Loki gave her an inscrutable look. “You realize that people won’t ever trust you, don’t you? They’ll always believe you have some hidden agenda. No one willingly offers themself up as a hostage. Not even Njord did that.”  
      
    “I did,” Sigyn said softly, with a shrug. “Do you believe I have some hidden a... agenda?”  
      
    “If I did, do you think I would tell you?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said flatly, “I suppose not. Silly of me.” She sighed again, exhaustion overcoming her. She was so tired of having this strange little conversation with Loki, of having to tiptoe around him only for all her caution to be for nothing. He would always distrust her. He would never like her. What was the point of trying?  
      
    “You didn’t answer my question,” Loki said mildly, bringing Sigyn out of her thoughts.  
      
    “I do know that people will not trust me,” Sigyn said. “I do not ask for their trust. As much as I would like to have it, I know it is not possible. All I ask for is their tolerance and their aid in bringing peace between our two Realms.”   
      
    “And your cousin?” Loki asked. “What does he wish for?”  
      
    _Death to all Aesir_ , Sigyn thought with a sickening twist of her stomach.   
      
    “Home,” she said, which was the truth as well. “He is not taking the change well.”  
      
    “And you are?” Loki asked, studying her carefully.  
      
    Sigyn smiled faintly. “It does not matter if I am or am not, yes? I have a duty. I have always done my duty.”  
      
    “I have always done my duty,” Loki repeated ponderously, his gaze becoming distant. Then his eyes sharply focused back on her. “It was not your duty to offer yourself as a hostage. Forgive my bluntness, but you were relatively insignificant in Laufey’s court. You may be related to his wife, but that did not put you at enough value to be taken.”  
      
    She had to acknowledge the truth in his words. She was still surprised that Odin had agreed. “It is my duty to do what I think is best,” Sigyn rephrased. “And it is my duty to do what is needed. I must grow used to Asgard; it is my home now.”   
      
    Loki sat down in his chair at last, leaning back in it as he stared at her. “Is it so awful here, in the Realm Eternal?”  
      
    Sigyn took a moment to think. “No,” she said at length, almost surprised by how much she meant it. “It is not... ideal, my conditions upon coming here. But it is not as horrible as I was expecting it to be. It has been surprising.” She laughed then, quietly. “Is that not another purpose to this exchange of hostages? So that we may learn about each other in a way we have not had the chance to before? That is a way to build peace.”  
      
    He gave her a level look and she knew that he remained unconvinced. “You say all the correct things, and you say them well enough that you’d likely convince most people that you mean them.”  
      
    She felt her shoulders drop and her frown deepen. This along with her earlier conversation with Theoric tried the rest of her patience. “My Prince, I truly do not know what I can do to make you believe me. To make you know that I do not intend any harm to Asgard. But,” she continued before he could say anything, “I tire of trying to earn your approval. No matter what I do, you will always dislike and distrust me.  
      
    “So,” she said simply, “I will stop trying. I will do nothing at all. I will go as I always have, and you will either accept me or disregard me, I do not care which. There is nothing else I can do.”  
      
    She saw the anger in his green eyes before he spoke. “You accuse me of distrusting you, when you yourself don’t trust me or any Aesir. You flinch away from others and hold yourself back, and you say whatever you think people want to hear. How can we trust you when you so obviously put a wall up?”  
      
    “I--of course I trust the Aesir,” Sigyn said, her voice rising. “How can I not? I have to trust that they will not harm me, that they will do what is best for me. I trust the Queen, and Lady Freyja.” She swallowed thickly, tears pricking at the edge of her eyes. “I wanted to trust you. You were the first person I thought did not have some kind of second plan in being friendly to me. I thought you were sincere in your kindness.”  
      
    She fell silent briefly, her throat constricting. Damn it, she would _not_ cry in front of him. Not because of him. “I did not leave behind Jotunheim and my life there so you could berate me, Loki Odinson,” she said. “I am not a monster, and I refuse to to let you treat me as if I am.”  
      
    With that she dropped into a short curtsey, turned on her heel, and made a quick escape. Mercifully, the doors opened for her with no help from Loki. He did not follow her as she all but ran down the corridor. She got turned around only once and otherwise managed to find her chamber without issue. The door shut firmly behind her, Sigyn caught her breath and forced herself to not cry.  
      
    _I am tired of crying_ , she thought as she sat down in front of her mirror. _I am tired of crying, and of being frightened, and trying so hard only to have him still suspect the worst of me_.  
      
    Sigyn wiped the tears from her cheeks, failing in stopping them from falling. She took a shuddering breath and hugged herself, looking down at her yellow skirt. She felt like an idiot now. Why had she believed that she could make so obvious a statement and have people believe it without question? They did not just see the dress; they saw the dress on her marked blue skin and her red eyes. The dress could not make up for what she was at all.  
      
    Soon, though, the sadness left her and was quickly replaced by anger. How dare he treat her like that. No, she was not anyone important, either here or in Jotunheim. She’d always either been ignored or sneered at. But he barely knew her--he only knew stories of the Jotnar, and thought them to be truth instead of myth. He saw a plot in her every move and didn’t stop to consider that it was his own suspicious thinking instead.   
      
    He was impossible, and insufferable, and for a brief moment she truly hated him. However, it died just as quickly as it came. Hate had never really been something that came easily to her. It just wasn’t her nature. Even if Loki was unkind and quick to accuse, and saw her only as some generic Jotun fiend... she couldn’t hate him for long. It was too tiring.   
      
    Sigyn sighed, taking a look at herself in the mirror. The flowers were beginning to wilt, and several had fallen out of her hair in her hasty retreat from Loki’s study. She began pulling them out to save Dagný the trouble later. It was strangely calming, so she let her mind wander. By the time a small pile of flowers lay on her vanity, Sigyn had made up her mind.  
      
    She knew it was a lost cause to hope that she and Loki could ever be friends. But she could still hope for his tolerance. He was a Prince; whether he liked it or not, he would have to treat her with some measure of respect and acceptance. She would do her part to foster good will. She would be kind and polite, but would not seek out his respect or favour, as she said she wouldn’t. It would be going back on her promise to bring peace to treat him badly, however, or ignore him completely.   
      
    In a way, Sigyn recognized that she was bound by the same obligations as he was. She found it amusing how neither one of them were particularly happy about it. But she’d do what she must, and she hoped eventually it would make things easier between them.  
      
    He was the Crown Prince now, she remembered then. The thought sent another nervous flutter going in her stomach. What would he do when he was King? Would he be kind? Would he care for his subjects, from the highest noble to the lowest commoner? Would he care about keeping the peace with Jotunheim?  
      
    It scared her that she honestly didn’t know. After a moment, Sigyn pushed the thoughts away. There was no point in worrying herself sick about it now. There was still a little time before Loki would ever be King. The Allfather had not said anything about coronating him, or going into the Odinsleep. He had to be waiting for things to settle down, she supposed.  
      
    Shaking her head, Sigyn splashed some ice cold water on her face, then slipped out of her dress to lay down. It’d been far too long a morning, and she needed to rest before the evening meal. Especially if the Queen made her spend time with Loki again.  
      
    --  
      
    After the standard greetings, Loki mostly ignored her throughout the evening meal. Sigyn couldn’t decide if she was happy or disappointed by that. She wasn’t anywhere near him to start conversation, either; she sat next to Frigga as usual, with Odin on the other side of the Queen, and Loki on his side. He was too far away. Besides that, Frigga had allowed Lofn and Nanna to sit next to Sigyn, so her attention was more diverted to them.  
      
    She caught him looking at her several times, however. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad.  
      
    Perhaps it was just as well. While she didn’t hate him, she was still irritated by their earlier argument. If he was still angry then it was asking for trouble to talk to him now. It would only end up in another fight, this time in front of the whole of Gladsheim.   
      
    No, she would wait. It was better that way.  
      
    By the time the meal was close to ending, Freyja came over and asked for Sigyn to accompany her for a moment. Frigga gave her consent, though Sigyn caught the Queen shooting a brief look over to Loki. There seemed to be something in her look that she was trying to convey to him, but if Loki understood it, he showed no signs of it.  
      
    “Come, all this noise is giving me the headache,” Freyja said as she led Sigyn out to the balcony. It was quickly becoming one of Sigyn’s favourite places in Gladsheim, besides the library and the gardens. Asgard was simply stunning at night, and she loved being able to see all of it from how high up she was.   
      
    “I thought you liked being the center of crowds?” Sigyn asked, her tone slightly teasing.  
      
    Freyja laughed, mostly in surprise. “You do have a sense of humour. I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever see it.”  
      
    Sigyn ducked her head shyly. “There has not been much chance.”  
      
    Freyja sighed, leaning on the balcony wall. “You should share it more often, if you can.”  
      
    She made a noncommittal sound in response, closing her eyes and letting the breeze wash over her. She enjoyed the comfortable silence before Freyja spoke up again.  
      
    “If you’re interested, would you like to come by my hall tomorrow?”  
      
    She started in surprise. “Your hall? Is it outside of Gladsheim?”  
      
    “As far away as I could make it without being rude,” Freyja said with a broad smile. “You could come for the midday. I’m sure the Queen will approve.”  
      
    Sigyn hesitated. “Are you certain of that?”  
      
    “Well, I haven’t asked her yet.”  
      
    “My lady!”  
      
    Freyja laughed at Sigyn’s horrified expression. “Calm yourself, Sigyn. I’ll take you there myself, and you’ll have some guards with you as well. Frigga wouldn’t let you go out unprotected.”  
      
    The fact that she even needed to be protected disturbed her. Would the Aesir truly attack her if she stepped foot outside of Asgard? She’d known they wouldn’t be happy at seeing her, but to show their displeasure in such a way?  
      
    “Are you certain it would be safe?” Sigyn asked at length, wringing her hands nervously.   
      
    Freyja waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t ask you if I weren’t certain.”  
      
    “Why do you wish for me to come?”  
      
    “For privacy,” Freyja said. “You and I can talk without the presence of the other ladies, and it will get you out of Gladsheim for a while. It also serves the purpose of the other Aesir being able to see you, even if it’s brief. The Queen intends to get you situated in Asgard, and part of that will be other people seeing you and accepting you as part of this Realm now.”  
      
    Sigyn looked away from Freyja and out to the city instead. The sudden realization struck her that she felt safer in Gladsheim than she did at possibly going back out into the city, even with guards surrounding her. But Freyja wouldn’t ask to speak with her in private if it wasn’t something that truly needed to remain private.   
      
    Seeing no other option, Sigyn nodded slowly. “If the Queen allows it, I will go.”    
      
    “Wonderful,” Freyja said, standing up from the balcony wall. “I shall ask her after this meal is done. Do you want to walk back with me?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said, shaking her head. “I would like to stay here for a moment, please.”  
      
    When she left, Sigyn tried to relax. She took a deep breath of the ocean air and closed her eyes, tuning out the noise behind her in the feasting hall. Try as she might, though, she could not stop the worry from making her tense.   
      
    What was it that Freyja wanted to speak with her about? If it was something that could not even be spoken of in front of the Queen, did she really want to hear it? It may place her in a bad situation, and Sigyn was already in quite a few of those. She had no desire to add more.  
      
    Still, she’d agreed. She knew the Queen would keep her safe. All she could do now was hope that it wasn’t as bad as she was thinking it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a brief note about Lofn and Nanna, they're about sixteen in mortal years, whereas Sigyn is twenty-one. I forgot to mention that in the last chapter, so I'm mentioning it now!


	9. Shattered Secrets

    When Dagný learned that Sigyn would be going to Freyja’s hall the next morning, Sigyn thought she’d faint right then and there. Her eyes widened and she grew very still before bursting into a flurry of motion, hurrying over to Sigyn’s wardrobe to begin choosing her dress.  
      
    Sigyn tried valiantly to calm her down, but eventually just sat down and let Dagný do what she would. Apparently her meeting with one of the noble ladies of Asgard outside of Gladsheim was an important event. Not a hair could be out of place, and if she wore the wrong dress? Dagný couldn’t bear the thought, it seemed.  
      
    She didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about, but if it made Dagný happy to take control, Sigyn wouldn’t ruin that. It was nice to have the decisions mostly out of her hands, anyway. She trusted Dagný to make the right choices. It gave her an amusing distraction from the day’s troubles, if nothing else.  
      
    The next morning, Sigyn was woken up before dawn by Dagný, who promptly took her to the bath yet again. Sigyn nearly fell back asleep in the cold water, only to be jolted awake when Dagný poured water over her head. It was going to be far too long a day, Sigyn decided then.  
      
    As Dagný was drying her wet hair, Sigyn yawned and asked, “Is this necessary?”  
      
    Dagný stared blankly at her and she realized she’d spoken in Jotun. Trying again, she said, “Must we do this?”  
      
    “Yes,” Dagný said, sounding horrified. “You’re visiting Lady Freyja! You’re going outside of Gladsheim. There will be so many people seeing you, possibly for the first time since you arrived, and you can’t look just any certain way when you’re having the midday with a noble woman. You have to look nice.”  
      
    Sigyn thought she already looked nice, but she didn’t dare argue with Dagný on it. Her servant was a little frightening in her intensity.   
      
    “Besides, if I don’t dress you properly for this, the Queen will hear and she--” Dagný stopped, pausing briefly in combing out Sigyn’s hair.  
      
    “Yes?”   
      
    “She might assign me to someone else,” Dagný said, returning to her work. “She’ll think I don’t know how to do my job properly. She might even put me back in the kitchens. I don’t want that.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, feeling ashamed for thinking that Dagný was just being silly. Of course there would have been some underlying reason for it. She smiled reassuringly at Dagný in the mirror. “You will do fine, I know it. You are very good at your job.”  
      
    Dagný blinked in shock, then resolutely looked down at Sigyn’s hair. “Thank you,” she said quietly.  
      
    By the time the sun was coming up, Dagný had gone through all of Sigyn’s new dresses until she’d finally settled on a dusted pink one. Her hair took considerably less time, as Dagný knew immediately what to do with it. She did the sides of her head in simple braids, bringing them together at the back of her head with a small hair ornament, and left the rest loose. Sigyn vaguely remembered that unmarried Aesir women wore their hair loose until they were married, when they could begin wearing it however they liked. Somehow, being made to the have the style herself seemed wrong.  
      
    Dagný finally stepped back and looked her over, nodding to herself. “I think I’m finished,” she said, still looking worried.  
      
    “I look pretty,” Sigyn said, smiling. “Thank you, Dagný.”  
      
    Mutely, Dagný nodded. “I won’t be going with you to Lady Freyja’s hall,” she said as she led Sigyn out of her bedchamber. “She’ll have servants of her own there to tend to you. You’ll likely be heading there right after the ladies disperse for the day, so I won’t see you again until you return.”  
      
    “Very well,” Sigyn said. They traveled in silence for a moment before Sigyn spoke up again. “Um, Dagný? Do you think... I will be safe?”  
      
    Dagný gave her an odd look. “Why wouldn’t you be?”  
      
    Sigyn shrugged, biting her lip. “As you said, it is my first time outside of Gladsheim. The people here have gotten used to me, in a way, but outside is different.”  
      
    Dagný’s expression softened. “You’ll be fine. The Queen will have guards protecting you, and besides, no one wants to risk the wrath of the Allfather if they hurt you. He may be distant with you right now, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”  
      
    Sigyn didn’t respond to that. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted Odin’s caring. His avoidance might have been more preferable.   
      
    When she reached Frigga’s chambers, Sigyn bid goodbye to Dagný. When the Queen greeted her, Sigyn immediately knew something was wrong. Frigga smiled, as usual, but it was shortlived and the rest of the meal passed in relative silence. Frigga was troubled by something, and no matter how often Sigyn tried to initiate conversation, the Queen could not be brought out of her thoughts.  
      
    Eventually, Sigyn left her to them. Though she was worried about whatever is was troubling the Queen, she did not feel right in asking her what it was. When the other ladies joined them, Frigga managed to brighten a little and be more active. Sigyn noticed, however, that Frigga rarely looked over at her. When she did, Sigyn could catch a brief flash of guilt in the Queen’s expression before she turned away.  
      
    Unease settled over her then. She distracted herself by watching Lofn embroider and attempting to learn once again, but her mind wandered so much that she ended up pricking her fingers more than she learned anything. Finally the morning ended and Sigyn joined Freyja as they both left the chamber.  
      
    “Sigyn,” the elder woman said with a smile. “You look beautiful.”  
      
    “Thank you,” Sigyn said. “As do you.”  
      
    “I do hope you and I have fun today,” Freyja said, though something in her tone made Sigyn pause. “I’ve quite the meal prepared.”  
      
    Sigyn made a small noise and the rest of the walk to Gladsheim’s entrance continued in silence. When Sigyn saw the group of guards that had been gathered to escort them, she swallowed thickly and drifted closer to Freyja. She eyed their weapons nervously, far too aware of how easily they could cut through her body.  
      
    A guard broke apart from the rest to approach them, and Sigyn’s heart jumped when she saw it was Theoric. Somehow, she was both surprised and not surprised at all that he was there.   
      
    “My ladies,” Theoric said with a bow of his head. “We’re here to take you to Sessrúmnir.”  
      
    “Ah, good,” Freyja said with a slow grin, looking Theoric over. Sigyn had to bite back a laugh when she saw how Theoric blushed under Freyja’s attention. “You all look strong and capable. I shall have to tell the Queen that she chose well.”  
      
    “Er--yes, my lady--I mean--as you say,” Theoric said, quickly inclining his head again and stepping back. “Ah, shall we?”  
      
    “We shall,” Freyja said, linking her arm with Sigyn’s and beginning to lead her to the gates. Sigyn glanced back briefly at Gladsheim as the guards circled them. Nerves aflutter, she turned back around and let Freyja walk her to the gates surrounding the castle.  
      
    “Don’t be so tense,” Freyja said quietly, leaning in towards Sigyn’s ear. “You’ll be fine.”  
      
    “I know,” Sigyn lied.   
      
    The gates were opened for them and Sigyn didn’t have time to catch a breath before she took her first step outside. She wasn’t quite certain what she was expecting when she stepped outside, but it hadn’t been complete silence. The area surrounding the gates was deserted and quiet, save for the chirping of birds in the trees that lined the path.   
      
    Before she could relax from that, she heard the rumble of sound, growing closer as she and Freyja walked. As it became louder, the unease in her middle got deeper as well. Soon enough they were past the trees and out into the edge of the city, and Sigyn gripped Freyja’s arm tightly when she saw how many people there were.  
      
    As soon as she was spotted, people fell silent as their gazes turned to her. Freyja began talking, though Sigyn honestly didn’t hear it. She kept her gaze to the far off distance, not looking at anyone in particular. She didn’t want to see their expressions or give them any kind of chance to take her stare as a challenge of some sort. The people cleared the way for the guards, so no one really came close to her. It was a small mercy, but she loved it all the same.  
      
    “Are you well, my lady?” Theoric asked during a lull in Freyja’s conversation. Sigyn glanced at him and nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. “It’ll get easier, in time. They’ll get used to you.”  
      
    “As you say,” Sigyn said. She supposed it would get easier, after living in Asgard for a few decades. Maybe centuries.   
      
    The time seemed to pass torturously slow, with Sigyn keeping her gaze firmly ahead no matter how much she wanted to see this part of Asgard. The only time she looked down was when she saw a flash of white against the gold of the buildings. A strange, small, furry animal with yellow eyes stared at her before slinking off. She saw more creatures of the same sort the further along they went.   
      
    Finally, they came to a golden gate with a large arch over the entrance. More of the creatures were resting on the small wall connected to the gate, resting. Some of them turned their heads to look at their small group, but otherwise the creatures ignored them.  
      
    “Freyja,” Sigyn said after a moment as they stepped through the open gates, “what are those?”  
      
    “They’re cats, dear,” Freyja said. “My pets. I’m rather fond of them.”  
      
    She remembered then the stories that went around Jotunheim, of Freyja’s cart being pulled by two large cats. She’d never known what a cat looked like and no one seemed to have any descriptions for her either, past the cats coming up to a regular Jotun’s chest. The cats that rested on the wall and rolled around in the sun were clearly not the type to pull anything.   
      
    Freyja led her past a fountain and into the large golden building that must have been her hall. The air inside was mercifully cool and Sigyn sighed as it washed over her. As Freyja’s servants welcomed her home and studiously ignored Sigyn, others opened the curtains to let in the light.   
      
    Sigyn, at first, wasn’t entirely sure how to process what she was seeing in Freyja’s hall. Whereas most of Gladsheim, save for the personal chambers she’d been into, had been sparsely decorated, Freyja’s was an assault on the eyes. Every corner had some kind of detail, even a minute one, and Sigyn wasn’t sure where her attention was supposed to be focused on. Flowers in vases littered the ornate tables she had laid about. The walls had runes on them, as well as more fabric hanging across them. The chairs and couches were heavily embroidered and their frames seemed to be made out of pure gold. There was even an embroidered rug on the floor.  
      
    Eventually, Sigyn just sat down and focused on a little black cat that came up to greet her. It was easier than trying to get used to the amount of detail that was in this one room of Freyja’s.  
      
    “Welcome to my hall, Sigyn,” Freyja said, smiling broadly. She turned to the servants. “Open up the windows, come on, let the fresh air in.” Freyja sat across from Sigyn in another chair, the table between them. “I see you’ve met Unna.”  
      
    “Unna?”  
      
    “The cat,” Freyja said, nodding to the black cat that had begun rubbing on Sigyn’s legs.  
      
    “Oh! Yes,” Sigyn said, eyeing the guards as they dispersed throughout the room. Theoric came to stand near her, making her skin prickle uneasily, but she ignored him by leaning down to examine the cat. “I am confused,” she admitted. “What does Unna want me to do?”  
      
    “She just wants attention,” Freyja said as another cat went up to her. She leaned down and picked it up, placing it on her lap and stroking its head. Sigyn mimicked her, picking Unna up carefully and setting her down on her lap. She was far softer than Sigyn expected, and she found herself rubbing the cat’s fur just to enjoy the feel of it. There was a strange rumbling sound coming from Unna’s chest, but she didn’t seem to be in pain, so Sigyn ignored it.  
      
    The midday meal was served a few minutes later, the plates far more lavish than the ones in Gladsheim. There were even some foods Sigyn didn’t recognize, which Freyja then explained came from Vanaheim. “Asgard is all meat and potatoes,” Freyja said with a roll of her eyes. “I prefer lighter fare.”  
      
    They ate in relative silence--or, at least, Sigyn did. Freyja filled up the quiet cheerfully, talking about everything from the weather to the gowns the ladies had been wearing that morning to Vanaheim. Sigyn didn’t mind, but at the same time, she wondered when Freyja was going to get to her point. She’d had something to tell her, hadn’t she? Something important, private?  
      
    At the end of the meal, the servants carried away their dishes and Freyja leaned back in her chair. Unna was still curled up contently on Sigyn’s lap, and she didn’t have the heart to move her. “Theoric,” Freyja said at length, taking her eyes off Sigyn, “why don’t you and your men go have some drinks? You’ve been working so very hard, and you had to stand there watching us eat. The servants will escort you to where you can relax for a minute.”  
      
    Theoric hesitated. “We aren’t supposed to leave, my lady.”  
      
    “There’s nothing to hurt her here,” Freyja said. “Unless you think being used as furniture by a handful of cats is harmful.”  
      
    “But the Queen--”  
      
    “She’s safe here,” Freyja said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. “Go on.”  
      
    Theoric hesitated before nodding to his men. They all filed out, the servants by the door pointing them where they could go. Theoric reluctantly left, giving one last small glance to Sigyn over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.  
      
    “My, he’s quite taken with you,” Freyja observed once the doors were closed. Sigyn did her best not to flinch. “Much like a puppy with a new, loving master.”  
      
    “You wished to speak to me about something?” Sigyn said, sincerely not wanting to hear anything about Theoric loving her.   
      
    “I did,” Freyja said, setting down a glass of meade. Now that she’d brought it up, Sigyn noticed Freyja’s demeanor change. She seemed tense, maybe even a little irritated. She had no idea why; she hadn’t done anything to anger the woman, had she? Finally, Freyja spoke up. “Are you good at keeping secrets, Sigyn?”  
      
    Sigyn paused and then shrugged. “If I must.”  
      
    “Well, then,” Freyja began, “I implore you to keep what I’m about to tell you a secret. The Queen would be incredibly angry with me if she found out I’d told you any of this. But you deserve to know, and she’s in the wrong for keeping it from you as long as she has.”  
      
    The unease from earlier came back then, stronger than it was before. Sigyn felt the urge to run, though to where she didn’t know. It didn’t matter so long as she got out of this situation. She didn’t want to hear what Freyja had to say and didn’t want to know what the Queen was keeping from her. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good, and Sigyn wished to remain oblivious. It was childish and she knew it, but that did not change anything.  
      
    “Very well,” Sigyn said slowly, staying in her chair.   
      
    Freyja took a deep breath, seemingly uncertain of where to begin. “You must have wondered at some point since coming here, why Odin decided to take you as a hostage. You don’t...” Freyja paused, then continued. “You don’t quite have the same value to him as Laufey’s other son would have.”  
      
    “I--” Sigyn began. “Yes, I suppose,” she said after faltering slightly.   
      
    Freyja tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair, staring at Sigyn intently. “And you must be wondering why the Queen is so intent on you joining her and the other ladies every morning.”   
      
    “Freyja,” Sigyn said suddenly, her voice shaking. “Please, just tell me. What it is.”  
      
    There was a tense silence before Freyja spoke again. “The Allfather intends to have you married.”  
      
    The words were like a crumbling building, crushing her and taking her breath away. Her heart sank and her throat constricted, and after a second Sigyn was suddenly aware of how heavily she was breathing. Her hands began trembling, so she clasped them together to hide it. “H-how do you know?”  
      
    “They intended the same thing for me, when I first came here,” Freyja said, her gaze becoming distant. “To officially bind the two Realms together, so that war could never happen again. Unfortunately for them, I still considered myself quite married, though such things are a bit... looser, in Vanaheim.” She smirked just slightly then, evidently still proud of how she had ruined their plans. “Odin never quite forgave me for deceiving him like that, but he never asked, and so I never told until he brought up the prospect of marrying.”  
      
    “I--forgive me, but simply because it was that way for you does not mean the Allfather intends the same for me,” Sigyn said, not caring how desperate she sounded. She was grasping for any halfway decent reason. He couldn’t intend to marry her off. He couldn’t.   
      
    Freyja gave her a sympathetic look that Sigyn immediately disliked. “Why else would he take a young, presumably fertile, woman of marrying age from a Realm he had just been at war with? He intended to take both of Laufey’s sons and train one to go back to Jotunheim one day, with Asgard’s best interests at heart. But that would not have assured peace.   
      
    “Then you came along, offering yourself willingly, and he saw another opportunity. He saw a way to bind both Realms together for good. He saw you, married to someone in his court, and one day perhaps a child being born of both Jotunheim and Asgard.”  
      
    “He cannot,” Sigyn said, hating the whine in her voice. “He cannot mean that for me. He has ignored me the entire time I have been here.”  
      
    “Yes,” Freyja said, “but his wife hasn’t.”  
      
    That shut her up. Suddenly, Sigyn understood all of Frigga’s kindness during her time here. She must have known the day Odin returned home what he intended to do with Sigyn. So Frigga took her under her care and began preparing her for what was to come.   
      
    Sigyn could see it all now. How easily she had begun integrating her into the daily life of the other noblewomen, who would one day be Sigyn’s companions; how she had begun teaching her how to embroider and other things; how she changed the way Sigyn dressed.  
      
    All this time, she’d simply thought Frigga was trying to make her more Aesir so she would fit in better. She should have guessed Frigga was trying to make her more Aesir because soon enough, she would be married to one.   
      
    “Do--do you know who?” Sigyn asked quietly, afraid of the answer.  
      
    “Oh, darling,” Freyja said. “There’s only one possible choice. How else to bind together two warring Realms, but to marry the hostage of one to the prince of the other?”  
      
    Horrified, Sigyn burst into tears and covered her face with her hands. Loki. She was going to be married to Loki. How could she have been so stupid, to not see what Odin had been planning? The moment she stepped forward to offer herself, Odin had known what he wanted to do with her. He’d seen her as nothing more than a means to an end. And he hadn’t even seen it fit to tell her what he was going to do with her.  
      
    Sigyn let herself cry for a long while, muffling her sobs with a hand in case Theoric could hear her through the walls. It hurt to have her entire future taken from her; it was worse to know that it had been taken from her and then planned for her by someone else entirely.   
      
    At most, she had expected her life in Asgard to pass simply. She would never be a part of it, no matter how much Frigga dressed her up as an Aesir. She thought she’d go on as she had been: Watched constantly, given a strict schedule to follow, and being present at certain functions but never truly a part of them. Maybe make a few friends here and there, as she had been doing, but nothing more.  
      
    Finally, she calmed herself down. Freyja hadn’t offered any comfort and for that, Sigyn was glad. Nothing much could comfort her now. Besides, she hated it when other people saw her cry, and would have only been uncomfortable with Freyja trying to make it better.   
      
    “As I said,” Freyja said quietly, “you deserved to know.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded numbly. “Thank you for telling me. Though the Queen would have, eventually.”  
      
    “Eventually,” Freyja agreed. “But I thought it better if you heard it from me, so you could react exactly like you just did. If you had done that in front of the Queen... she would understand, but I thought you’d want to avoid that.”  
      
    She did. Sigyn wiped her cheeks dry with her hands, sniffling. At least now she would be somewhat prepared whenever Frigga decided to tell her what would happen. She would still have to react in some way, but she wouldn’t break down into tears in front of the Queen.  
      
    “Was there anyone on Jotunheim you were involved with?” Freyja asked after a moment’s pause.   
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “I am not already married, and I was not bedding anyone or in love with anyone when I left.” Not many had wanted to be with a runt. She had long ago given up all thought of marriage or a family because of that fact, even though she desperately wanted it. She had wanted someone to call her own, to hold her when she was lonely. She had wanted children.  
      
    It was bitterly hilarious to her now that she was getting what she wanted, but not at all how she envisioned it.  
      
    “Well,” Freyja said. “That’s some small mercy, I suppose.”  
      
    Sigyn picked Unna up and set her down on the floor, then stood. “Forgive me, Freyja, but I think it best if I leave now.”  
      
    “Of course,” Freyja said, standing as well. “I’ll see you back to Gladsheim.”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said, too quickly. “No, there is no need. I have Theoric and the rest, yes? They will help me. Thank you.”  
      
    Freyja nodded and led her out of the room, summoning the guards. They soon joined them and Sigyn bade goodbye to Freyja. Unlike her first trip through the city, Sigyn kept her gaze down to the ground as she walked, letting the guards lead her back to Gladsheim. Theoric tried to talk to her several times, but when she didn’t respond, he gave up.   
      
    When they reached Gladsheim and were safely behind the walls, the guards dispersed to their own duties. Only Theoric remained.  
      
    “Is everything alright, my lady?”  
      
    “It is,” Sigyn said, forcing a smile and hoping it came off as untroubled. “I am simply a little tired. Thank you for helping me to Lady Freyja’s.”  
      
    Theoric nodded. “I will see you tonight then, Lady Sigyn.”  
      
    Sigyn only nodded in response and then made her way back into Gladsheim, needing the safety and privacy of her chambers. Dagný would be having her own midday with the other servants, so she had some time to herself. She intended to use as much of it as possible.   
      
    Before she could retreat to her chambers, however, Sigyn caught sight of Loki walking down the corridor towards her. She faltered slightly in her steps and caught herself staring at him openly. He was listening to someone dressed in fine robes talk, his gaze to the ground, so he did not immediately see her.  
      
    _Does he know?_ Sigyn wondered. _Does he know what the Allfather intends for both of us?_ Suddenly it occurred to her how sad it was, that Odin would be willing to use not only her as a tool, but his own son as well. Was that the nature of this place, that they would use each other so ruthlessly?  
      
    Loki glanced up, meeting her gaze, and something flickered briefly in his eyes. Then he glanced away again and Sigyn did not stop him when they passed each other in the corridor.  
      
    He did not know. She wasn’t certain how she came to that conclusion, but he didn’t. He might have suspected it--in fact, she was willing to say that he definitely suspected his father was up to something he wasn’t telling anyone about--but Loki didn’t know the specifics.  
      
    Strangely reassured by that, Sigyn arrived to her bedchambers and closed the door behind her. With a tired sigh, she laid down on her bed and gazed up at the ceiling.   
      
    Could she learn to tolerate Loki? Could she grow used to him, teach herself to be comfortable enough with him to call him husband, let him get her with child? She would have to, if they were to be married. Odin would expect heirs out of such a match. She would have to give birth to at least two sons, and be pregnant several times if she had daughters instead.   
      
    She tried to imagine it, being married to Loki. Going to sleep with him and waking up beside him in the morning. Being made to spend time with each other at feasts and other such things. Wanting him enough to let him touch her and spill his seed inside her.  
      
    He wasn’t... unattractive, Sigyn supposed. For an Aesir. The more she thought about it, the more she decided he was handsome enough. If only his manner weren’t so hostile and hateful, she may have even said he was desirable.   
      
    But circumstances being what they were, she could not work up much enthusiasm for the idea. She would do what she must, but she didn’t see herself ever wanting him. Her own feelings didn’t matter much, though. She would be married to Loki whether she wished it or not, because it was for the best. A marriage between Jotunheim and Asgard would bind the two together forever, and was the surest way to bring about peace.  
      
    Sigyn would tolerate Loki for that.  
      
    _I have always done my duty,_ Sigyn thought. She hated how true it was now. [**  
**](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7906022/6/)


	10. At the Beginning

    “You’re quiet this morning,” Dagný observed the next day as she did Sigyn’s hair.   
      
    Sigyn shook herself of her thoughtfulness and managed to a smile. “Forgive me, I am simply tired. I did not sleep well last night.”  
      
    “Was it too warm?” Dagný asked. “I can start leaving a window open, if you like. The weather is much cooler at night than it is during the day.”  
      
    “I--yes,” Sigyn said, surprised by the offer. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”  
      
    Of course, it wasn’t the heat that had kept her up this time. She had spent the night tossing and turning about what Freyja had told her. About the fact that she was going to be married to Loki sometime in the near future. Even though she had decided she was going to go through with it, that didn’t stop her worries.  
      
    It had only been later on after she had gotten over her initial shock that she realized what marrying Loki would make her: A princess of Asgard. The idea settled strangely on her. She had no use for power, having had little of it in her life, so she could not imagine what being a Princess might be like. Worse, now that he was the Crown Prince, one day she might be Queen. Any children they had would be the heirs to the throne.   
      
    Sigyn wondered if Odin knew what he was doing. He had to know that the Aesir would not take kindly to a Jotun Queen, or half-blooded children. Would they be able to accept his decisions? Would they be able to see that her marriage to Loki would be for their own greater good, and the good of Jotunheim as well? Somehow she did not think so. The thought made her highly uneasy.   
      
    The news was still dizzying to her. Every time she thought about being married to Loki, she felt overwhelmed. She could not have seen this happening when she had stepped forward to offer herself. Honestly, Sigyn knew she should have; why else would Odin have agreed to take her? She was worthless in Laufey’s court, nothing but a runt healer who chose gentleness over the Jotun’s typical ferocity.   
      
    _I saw the best in Odin, even when I should not have,_ Sigyn thought. _I never thought he would be capable of this, taking a woman from her home to marry her off to a stranger from an enemy land and not even tell her about it._   
      
    Well, even if she could not learn to love Loki or even like him, she knew she would love whatever children came about from their marriage. It would be her one consolation. She would have the children she’d wanted for some decades now. It brightened her mood somewhat, though she still felt sick to her stomach from everything that had happened.  
      
    When Dagný finished with her hair and began leading her to Frigga’s chambers, the nausea was joined by anxiety. How could she face the Queen now? Would she be able to keep the knowledge from her expression so the Queen wouldn’t know she’d found out? There was only one way to know, she supposed.  
      
    The Queen seemed nervous when Sigyn greeted her, which immediately told Sigyn that she suspected Freyja had done something. When they sat down to their breakfast, Frigga wasted no time in beginning her questions.  
      
    “How was your midday with Lady Freyja?”   
      
    “Fine,” Sigyn said, smiling. “She was very kind.”  
      
    Frigga studied Sigyn as she ate. “I’m glad you had a good time. What did you speak of?”  
      
    “There was not much conversation,” Sigyn said, the lie coming easily to her. “In order to have a conversation, there needs to be at least two people speaking to each other, yes? Lady Freyja is kind, but she does enjoy talking. I mostly listened.”  
      
    Frigga managed the barest of smiles, but did not seem to be eased by this information. “I see.”  
      
    “She spoke of dresses,” Sigyn said. “And the festivals, and feasts. And the men who had pleasing forms. She is very much eager to see me in my festival gown, she said.”  
      
    “You’ll look beautiful,” Frigga said quietly, her smile growing a tad. Then she returned to her meal and silence fell between the two of them.  
      
    Sigyn was grateful for that. The Queen seemed to believe her, though her distrust and suspicion of Freyja worried Sigyn a little. She hoped that Frigga wouldn’t do anything to Freyja. If her husband was so brutal, maybe the Queen was as well?  
      
    No, Sigyn thought. The Queen had been nothing but kind to her. Oblivious to some things, yes, but kind. She wouldn’t do anything to Freyja, just be disappointed that she had told Sigyn what was happening. Though now that Sigyn considered it, she wondered why Frigga had not told her herself, and sooner. Did she think Sigyn wasn’t ready to hear it? There was never going to be a good time to tell her, so that couldn’t have been it.  
      
    Maybe the Queen was fighting against it. Maybe she was trying to convince Odin to give Sigyn a choice in the matter.  
      
    But most likely not. They could have kept up the illusion of giving her an option, but truthfully, Sigyn would have had no choice. It was either marry Loki and bring permanent peace, or not marry him and hope being a hostage was enough to keep Laufey at bay. It was obvious what the best choice would have been.  
      
    No, the Queen was simply reluctant because she knew how much it would hurt Sigyn. She supposed she could appreciate the kindness Frigga meant in holding off on it, but really, Sigyn wished she had been told from the first day she was in Asgard. She never would have kept anything like that from a hostage of her own.   
      
    The meade tasted sour on her tongue at that thought. Sigyn desperately hoped she’d never be in a position where she’d have hostages under her care.   
      
    Freyja seemed not at all concerned that she may be found out when she swept through the doors to Frigga’s chambers with flourish, as usual. Nothing in her demeanor could have given it away that she had disobeyed the Queen’s decision. Sigyn could only hope she was coming across as naturally as Freyja was.   
      
    The morning with the other ladies passed peacefully. Nanna taught her how to embroider a small, simple flower, and Sigyn succeeded in pricking herself only twice. At the end of it, her stitches were wildly different lengths and she had to pick them apart. Mercifully the morning soon ended and she gratefully left the embroidering for the next day.  
      
    “You’ll learn,” Nanna reassured her as they were gathering their things. “No one is a master at it right when they begin. You should see some of Lofn’s earlier works, they were hideous.”  
      
    “No one will ever find them,” Lofn said with a sniff, “for I’ve burned all of it.”  
      
    “As you say,” Nanna replied with a grin, clearly disbelieving her entirely.   
      
    Sigyn wished she could join in their happiness, but she felt herself drawing back somehow. Now that she knew that Frigga had intended for them to one day be her ladies in attendance, like the other women were to her, it somewhat soured Sigyn’s feelings of friendship towards them. Lofn and Nanna didn’t know, or so she hoped. If they had been talked into being her friend, Sigyn wasn’t certain how she could ever bear to be around them again.  
      
    She would have to get over it. It wasn’t their fault she had been lied to; they deserved better than her aloof nature.   
      
    “Sigyn,” Frigga called out as she was beginning to make her way out, “would you stay for a moment, please?”  
      
    Hiding her unease, Sigyn nodded and bid goodbye to Lofn and Nanna. Frigga waited until her chamber was empty before turning to her. “I was wondering if you would take the midday meal with me?”  
      
    “Of course,” Sigyn said. “I would love to.”  
      
    “And Loki,” Frigga added, watching her carefully. “I would like for him to join us as well.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, blinking. “Of course.”   
      
    “Would you mind going and getting him for me?” Frigga asked. “Dagný will help you find the way.”  
      
    “I--yes, my Queen,” Sigyn said, furrowing her brow in confusion. She knew Frigga’s reasoning behind it. She wanted Sigyn to have some time with Loki by herself. She wondered then if her absence during the last midday meal she’d shared with Loki had been planned on her part. To her dismay, Sigyn realized she would not have put it past Frigga at this point.  
      
    _She is kind,_ Sigyn thought, _but that does not mean she does not know how to manipulate a situation._  
      
    Dagný arrived a few minutes later and then led her down a path Sigyn had not yet traveled. They came to a floor that was as high as the throne room of Asgard, with the city laid out, sprawling beneath them. Dagný stopped at a pair of large golden doors where two guards stood, spears in their hands.  
      
    “Queen Frigga sent us,” Dagný said. “The Lady Sigyn is to escort Prince Loki to the Queen’s chambers for the midday.”  
      
    “The Allfather and Crown Prince are busy, and asked not to be disturbed,” the guard said.   
      
    Dagný faltered, uncertain where to go from that, and Sigyn stepped forward. “I have a message to give them both from the Queen herself. It must be delivered by me personally. May I be let in to do so, please?”   
      
    The guards exchanged a glance and Sigyn continued sincerely, “Or should I go back to the Queen and get written permission? I will, if that is what I must do.” She hoped that had been the right way to handle this, so that they didn’t hate her for it. It felt unnatural, wielding what little power she had in this way.  
      
    Finally one guard moved from his post to open the doors. “The Lady Sigyn for the Allfather and Crown Prince,” he announced, and she nodded at him gratefully when she passed him into the room. He paused at that and considered her, but whatever he did next Sigyn did not see, as her attention was taken up by Odin and Loki.  
      
    They both sat together at a table piled high with papers. The first thing she noticed was that Loki was tense; he sat stiffly in his chair, looking highly uncomfortable. Odin, in contrast, was relaxed save for the expression on his face, which was grim.  
      
    Whatever they’d been talking about must not have been pleasant. Sigyn lowered into a curtsey and held herself there until Odin told her to rise.  
      
    “Good day, my King, my Prince.”  
      
    “Sigyn,” Odin said. She was half surprised he remembered her name. “Leave us,” he told the guard, and when the doors closed again, she was left with only the two of them.   
      
    Hiding her nervousness behind a steady smile, she inclined her head. “Queen Frigga wishes Prince Loki to join her for the midday meal. She sent me to personally come and take him to her sitting chamber.” She paused. “Might he be taken away from his... work, for a few short hours?”  
      
    “We’re busy,” Loki said, his tone deceptively, carefully blank. “Tell Mother I will see her tonight.”  
      
    Sigyn hesitated and in that brief time, Odin spoke instead. “You should go,” he said. “This will all still be here when you return.”  
      
    “All the more reason to stay here and finish it,” Loki said. “We can have the servants bring us food here.”  
      
    “Loki,” the Allfather said, and Sigyn stiffened at his tone. So did Loki, it seemed, for he immediately glanced down at the floor. “Go. We both need the rest.”  
      
    Loki rigidly stood and bowed to the Allfather before coming to join her side. Sigyn cast a glance back at Odin as they left. He was watching them as they left, and the contemplative look on his face made her shudder. She wondered how she and Loki looked to him.   
      
    _Like a well laid plan,_ Sigyn thought, _coming together just as he thought it would._  
      
    She was never happier than when the doors closed behind them and Odin could no longer stare at them. Dagný curtseyed to Loki and then began to walk off, but he stopped her.  
      
    “You don’t need to take us to my Mother’s chambers, I know where they are,” he said roughly. “Leave us.”  
      
    Dagný paused, then carefully inclined her head and left them. Sigyn tried not to focus on her nervous flutterings.   
      
    “You seem well today, my Prince,” Sigyn said.  
      
    “Save the pleasantries. I’m in no mood for them.”  
      
    “No, I had noticed that,” Sigyn said, deciding polite lies would get her nowhere. “You seemed tense.”  
      
    Loki was walking quickly, his irritation flooding every move, and Sigyn hurried to keep up with him. “I said save the pleasantries. You don’t care if I’m tense or not.”  
      
    Sigyn opened her mouth to answer, then tripped over the hem of her gown. Pain shot up her knees and hands as she landed on them, and a pained oomph left her once her chest hit the floor. Trying to regain herself, she sat back, wincing at the ache in her legs.  
      
    Then a hand was in front of her and she blinked, eyes traveling up to match a hand with an arm and the arm to Loki. She stared at him for a moment, shocked, before he lowered his hand.  
      
    “Are you going to let me help you up or are you going to stand by yourself?”  
      
    Sigyn found her footing on her own and brushed off her gown, using it as an excuse not to look at him. “Forgive me, my Prince, I had not meant to fall--”  
      
    “Of course you didn’t,” Loki said. He let his hand fall limply to his side before turning to continue down the corridor. Sigyn took up his side and to her surprise found that he had slowed his pace considerably. That nearly made her trip all over again. Was he being _kind_?  
      
    After a moment, she cautiously spoke up again. “I do care,” she said. “Simply because I am not trying to earn your approval anymore does not mean I do not care about you.”  
      
    Loki’s mouth twitched upward. “So you don’t care what I think about you, but you care about me as a person?”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said with a shrug. “That makes sense.”  
      
    “It doesn’t,” Loki said, and a note of something in his tone made Sigyn pause.  
      
    “Why not?”  
      
    “Because you can’t care about me as a person if you don’t care about what I think,” Loki said. “They cannot be disconnected. I am my thoughts.”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn had to admit he was right. “But I still do not care what you think about me personally. I have spent my life ignoring what others thought of me. I had to, if I wanted to survive.”  
      
    Loki cast a look at her, then focused back on their path. “And why do you care about me as a person?”  
      
    “I care about everyone,” Sigyn said. “Even you, Loki. You may dislike and distrust me, but I still care about you.”  
      
    Loki had no response to that, so Sigyn let the silence stretch on as they walked.     “Thank you for offering to help me stand,” Sigyn said at length.  
      
    “Not that you needed my help, apparently,” Loki observed dryly.  
      
    “But it means something that you offered,” Sigyn said quietly. They reached the door to Frigga’s sitting chamber before he could respond. When they entered to find the Queen absent, Sigyn wanted to laugh. Of course.  
      
    “My Prince, my Lady,” a servant began, “the Queen offers her sincerest apologies, but she was called away for important business. She will not be joining you for this meal, but hopes you enjoy yourselves thoroughly.”  
      
    Sigyn saw Loki glance at her out of the corner of her eye, and she returned his brief look. Then he turned to the servant and nodded. “Thank you. You’re dismissed, then.”  
      
    The servant bowed and left, and Sigyn waited awkwardly for Loki to make a move. He ran a hand over his face and managed a sardonic laugh before shaking his head.   
      
    “After you, my Lady.”  
      
    Sigyn went over to the table and sat down in her usual chair. Loki sat opposite her, and their meal began. Neither of them said anything at first, simply eating, before Loki spoke up.  
      
    “You know, don’t you?”  
      
    Sigyn’s hand jerked in shock and her cup fell off the table, landing with a loud clang. A servant rushed forward to clean it up while Sigyn apologized. Once it was done and she had a new cup, she sat back down and stared at Loki.  
      
    “What do I know?”  
      
    “Don’t play an idiot, Sigyn. It doesn’t become you.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed thickly and lowered her gaze. She made sure there was no one around to hear them. The servants had gone to retrieve something, it seemed, so it was just her and him. “Yes,” she said. “I know the Allfather intends to have me married.”  
      
    “To?” Loki prompted, taking a sip from his cup.  
      
    “You,” she finished flatly. “I am to be married to you.”  
      
    Loki scrutinized her. “Freyja told you.”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said with a shake of her head. “It was not hard to figure out. Even with my knowledge of Aesir customs being little, I knew the signs when I saw them. A Queen does not offer a hostage a place at her side or amongst her ladies.” She met his gaze. “When did you know?”  
      
    “I suspected something from the first,” Loki admitted. “You seemed an odd choice for Father to take, even if you had offered yourself. That might have appealed to his desire to mollify Laufey and keep from taking both of his sons, but it would not have been a smart move otherwise, taking you. You held no value in Laufey’s court. Except,” Loki continued, “for the fact that you’re distantly related to him.  
      
    “I knew for certain just now, when my Mother left us alone for this meal,” Loki said, leaning back in his chair. “She intends to give us space to become friends.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded slowly. “And... how do you feel about this?”  
      
    Loki met her gaze and stared at her, fingers tapping against the table absently. “It’s a good plan,” he said at last. “With our marriage, Jotunheim and Asgard would be bound together for several centuries, at least. If we had children, it would put an end to our wars for good.”  
      
    “That is true,” Sigyn said. “But that is not what I asked.”  
      
    Loki paused, then shifted in his seat and glanced away. “I feel as much about it as you do, I think. You don’t want this.”  
      
    Sigyn looked down at her plate, her food forgotten. She attempted to eat more of it, but found she’d lost the taste for it just then. “I am sorry.”  
      
    “For what? This wasn’t your decision.”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “I am sorry that you must marry me, instead of someone you chose. Someone you love. You deserve that, the freedom to choose and be happy.”  
      
    Loki looked taken aback, the first real emotion she’d seen on him in a while. Instead of covering it up, he merely frowned at her and then stopped meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry for you as well. For the same.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled sadly. “At least in this way, I am getting the family I have wanted for a while. I will love our children. Do not doubt that. I hope you will, too.”  
      
    “I will,” Loki said, but the way he said it made Sigyn wonder. “So then, are we to learn how to tolerate each other?”  
      
    Sigyn nodded. “We are.”  
      
    “Hmm,” Loki said, rubbing his upper lip with a finger, contemplating. “It seems to be a most difficult task they’re asking of us, given how often we butt heads.”  
      
    “I have every confidence that you will do your best, as I will do mine,” Sigyn said, her smile broadening slightly. “We will do our duty.”  
      
    “So we will.”  
      
    It was one of the friendlier conversations they’d had, and Sigyn found herself liking it. This is what it could be like to tolerate him, to not dread his presence. They would not be friends but allies, united against a common force. Doing what they could to stay alive and live up to the expectations others had of them. She could tolerate this Loki for peace.  
      
    “You said you had no family,” Loki said after he’d attempted to return to his meal, which proved to be a futile task. He’d pushed his plate away after only a few more bites. She had done likewise. “What happened to your parents?”  
      
    “They died,” Sigyn said. “A long time ago.”  
      
    “How?”  
      
    She hesitated. Perhaps it was simply idly curiousity on his part; maybe it was something more. She hated that she could not guess which.   
      
    Loki smirked, catching on to her reluctance. “I ask out of curiousity. You said you want to have a family, and I recall you saying you’ve been on your own for a while.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, still uncertain but not knowing how to refuse him. “My father, I did not know him. My mother told me that he died in the first war between Jotunheim and Asgard.”  
      
    “And did he?”  
      
    “As far as I know, yes,” Sigyn said. “The timing is right. I was born shortly after the war ended. My mother...” Her throat closed up on her then and she shook herself. “You must understand something before I continue. We had cities in Jotunheim once. We had buildings, and places to live with our families.”  
      
    “I’ve seen the ruins,” Loki said, looking as if he was wondering where this was going.  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said. “The ruins of our cities. Without the Casket, we had no way to repair them, no way to build new ones. The Casket powered our home. It was not merely a weapon but a tool, a necessary one. It simply fell into the hands of a king who misused it.”   
      
    Loki listened intently, his green eyes never leaving hers, so she continued. “I do not know what the cities looked like before the Casket was taken. I lived in isolation from the rest of the tribes. But one year, my mother decided to move us closer to a city. She wanted to try to introduce me into society, so that I may one day find a tribe of my own and have a life.  
      
    “Well,” Sigyn said slowly, tears brimming at the edges of her vision. “Without the Casket, our buildings became treacherous ruins. They would fall apart. One day, my mother went into the city because a building had crumbled. She wanted to help whoever had fallen victim to it, if she could.”  
      
    Loki seemed to have guessed where this was heading, given the solemn expression on his face. But Sigyn needed to say it out loud, somehow. Now that she had begun the tale, she couldn’t stop.  
      
    “The building was not finished falling,” she said, her voice cracking. “It crumbled again, and this time, my mother was caught in the rubble. She died quickly, from what I was told. She did not linger, which is... something good, I suppose. I was young, still a child, and I found myself without the one person who had protected and loved me my entire life.”   
      
    Sigyn wiped the tears from her cheeks numbly. Strange, she thought, how she could be crying and still be relatively calm about telling him the tale. She felt detached, really, which she wasn’t certain was a good thing. It’d just happened so long ago now that she had grown used to it, she supposed. That didn’t stop her mother’s death from hurting, but it did make it easier to accept.   
      
    “What did you do?” Loki asked, and she was somewhat surprised to hear how gentle his tone was.   
      
    “What I could,” Sigyn said. “I lived as long as I could on the food we had, then I left with the rest of it in search of a tribe to belong to.”  
      
    That was not the entire truth. She had left for a tribe, it was true. But she had gathered up what her Mother had taught her about healing magic and potions and spells, and used that to earn good favours and graces from the people she met. She used it to make her way in the world, and it had worked. She had never found a permanent tribe to belong to, but it had allowed her to live long enough to make the journey to Laufey’s castle and beg for a home there.   
      
    Loki didn’t need to know that. Loki couldn’t know that. Her magic must always remain a secret in Asgard, where it was hated so violently.   
      
    “You said,” Loki said after a pause, “that you lived in isolation. Why?”  
      
    Sigyn laughed weakly and shook her head. “Now, my Prince,” she said, failing to sound as firm as she wanted to, “perhaps that is a tale for another time. It is a sad one as well, and I have had enough sadness for one day.”  
      
    Loki inclined his head, respecting her decision. “Does that mean you’re willing to seek me out later and tell me?”  
      
    “I am,” Sigyn said. “If you care so much.”  
      
    “I do,” Loki said. “You may find me when you have need.”  
      
    “Mm,” Sigyn said. “Do you realize this is one of the first conversations we have had where we have not argued?”  
      
    “It seems strange, doesn’t it?” Loki said mildly, and Sigyn surprised herself by laughing.   
      
    “Perhaps a little,” she teased. “Should we fight now to make things right?”  
      
    “No,” Loki said. “Let’s see how long we can last.”  
      
    “Maybe we will not fight at all after this,” Sigyn said, her tone growing serious. “Maybe we will learn to get along.”  
      
    Loki caught her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Would you like that, Sigyn?”  
      
    She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous, heart beating fast. “Yes,” she said honestly. “I would like to at least tolerate the man I will some day call husband.”  
      
    “And I would like to tolerate the woman I will call my wife,” Loki agreed. “Though it seems such a low bar to set. Tolerance.”  
      
    She shrugged. “It is the best we can hope for, I think.”  
      
    “No,” Loki said. “Not the best.”  
      
    Before she could wonder at what he meant by that, he stood. He bowed to her, smiling slightly. “I should go, my lady,” he said. “You saw how much work I had left to do.”  
      
    “I did,” Sigyn said. “I wish you the best in surviving against it.”  
      
    Loki turned to leave, then stopped when he was halfway to the door. After a beat he turned and looked at her. “Thank you,” he said.  
      
    “For what?” Sigyn asked, taken aback.   
      
    “Trusting me enough to tell me about your mother,” Loki said. “Or at least deciding I should know about it.”  
      
    That stunned her into silence, so she simply nodded. He left her alone then, to her thoughts and feelings. Damn him, she thought after a moment, why must he be capable of kindness? It would have been much easier to write him off entirely if he’d been a horrid person all around.  
      
    But... at the same time, this conversation had left a small spark of hope in her. She could like him if he acted like that all the time, and he seemed inclined to try for the best in their marriage as well. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as horrible as she thought it might be. Perhaps they could learn to be a family of sorts, even if they did not love each other.  
      
    _Loki Odinson, my husband,_ Sigyn mused. She found it did not leave so bitter a taste in her mouth as it had the day before.


	11. Priests and Goats

    It took her a few days to find a chance to be alone with Loki. Nanna and Lofn always seemed to drag her away before she could find an opportunity to escape. She only ever saw him at mealtimes, where they only had a chance to nod at each other before being caught up in their separate crowds.   
      
    It surprised her that she found it so frustrating, not being with him. When she’d wanted nothing to do with him, he was everywhere. Now that she actually wanted to speak with him, Sigyn could barely find the time to do it.   
      
    _Perhaps I should ask Frigga to leave us alone at the midday again_ , Sigyn thought wearily. _It seems to be the only way we can talk._  
      
    One day, though, Lofn and Nanna were absent from the usual morning gathering. Sigyn seized her chance and begged an early leave from Frigga, who granted it. It was only when she was back out in the corridor that she realized she had no idea where to find Loki. She knew of his study, but had no idea how to find that again, or the room where he and Odin were working.   
      
    Finally she gathered her courage and asked a guard to help her find Loki. The guard complied, though he gave her a suspicious glance before leading her away. Sigyn wondered briefly if she should have asked Dagný to accompany her, but she didn’t want to distract the servant from her other duties.   
      
    The guard led her to a door that looked the same as any other door in Gladsheim, golden with runes emblazoned on it. He opened it and stepped inside.  
      
    “Pardons for the intrusion, my Prince, my Lady and Warriors,” she heard the guard say. “Sigyn has come to speak with you, Prince Loki.”  
      
    There was a silence in the room that strangely seemed tense to Sigyn before Loki spoke up. “Show her in.”  
      
    “Loki--” A woman’s voice began, but something cut her off.   
      
    Realizing she had interrupted something, Sigyn fidgeted uneasily. The guard stepped back out and motioned her in. “Thank you,” Sigyn said to him, causing him to look at her briefly in surprise. She stepped past him and into the room.  
      
    Inside stood Loki by a large wooden table, with various papers and books strewn about on it. On the other side of it stood a tall woman with black hair and silver armor on. Accompanying her were three different men; one was grim, the other large and muscular, and the last blond and clearly uncomfortable with whatever was going on.  
      
    Sigyn stopped. She’d walked in on Loki speaking to Sif and the Warriors Three. She’d only seen them around briefly and hadn’t spoken to them, given no reason or a chance to. A small shiver of fear went down her spine at the sight of them. If she were honest, they scared her just as much as Thor had. They were warriors and, from what she understood, were close to Thor.   
      
    Did that mean they supported his decision to kill her people and start a new war?  
      
    “Sigyn,” Loki said after a moment, and she realized she’d been staring. “Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.”  
      
    She dipped into a deep curtsey. “It is a pleasure.”  
      
    “The pleasure is all ours,” Sif said, her tone strained. When Sigyn stood back up, she saw that they were all staring at her. The blond one and the muscular one were giving each other uneasy looks, and Sigyn couldn’t tell if it was because of her or the conversation she’d interrupted.   
      
    “I can come back,” Sigyn said, looking to Loki, “if I have interrupted...”  
      
    “No,” Loki said just as Sif seemed ready to answer. She cut him a sharp look that he ignored. “Make yourself comfortable, Sigyn. They were just leaving.”  
      
    “We’re not finished here--” Sif began.  
      
    “I think we are,” Loki said, meeting her gaze levelly. “I have another guest now, one whom I’ve already promised my time to. We can talk later.”  
      
    “As you wish, my Prince,” the redheaded muscular one said, seemingly wanting to avoid an argument. “Let’s go, Lady Sif.”  
      
    Sif’s look was cold as she glanced one last time at Loki. “We will speak later.” She cast another look at Sigyn and her expression softened briefly before she and the other three men walked out. The door closed behind them and Sigyn let out a breath, feeling the tension leave her.  
      
    “I truly did not mean to interrupt,” she said apologetically to Loki, worried he was annoyed with her. “If I had known--”  
      
    “On the contrary,” Loki said, “I thank you for getting them out of here faster.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. “Oh.”  
      
    “Sit down,” Loki said, motioning to the chairs that littered the room they were in. She did as he asked, sitting the way Frigga had shown her; with her ankles crossed and her hands on her lap. “I’d begun to think you were avoiding me, Sigyn,” Loki said. “It seems we rarely get to see each other these days.”  
      
    His tone was light, but she caught a glimpse of a darker emotion in his expression. “I am not,” she said. “It is only, I am always surrounded by others who seem to have other plans for what I should do every day.”  
      
    Loki came to sit across from her, handing her a cup of water. It was ice cold and she smiled at him, surprised he would think of that. “That will likely change once we’re married,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You’ll have more freedom to do as you like.”  
      
    Sigyn doubted that. A princess she may one day be, but she’d also still be a Jotun. She’d just be a Jotun with a title. She took a sip of her water and closed her eyes in bliss at how cold it was.   
      
    “Are you busy?” she asked after a brief silence, looking over at the papers. “I can come back later.”  
      
    “No, stay,” Loki said. “All of that can wait.”  
      
    “If you are certain,” Sigyn said, eyeing the papers uncertainly.   
      
    “I am,” Loki said, sipping his own drink, staring at her all the while. “You promised me a story, if I recall correctly.”  
      
    Sigyn paused, then smiled slyly. “Do I get a story in return?”  
      
    Loki seemed taken aback before laughing quietly. “And what would you have me tell?”  
      
    “I do not know,” Sigyn said. “Whatever story you think I would like.”  
      
    “I hardly know you.”  
      
    “And if you tell me a story I do not like and I tell you as much, you will know me a little better, yes?” Sigyn retorted with a grin. In truth, she was still hesitant to tell the story he was expecting. In Jotunheim, it was a shameful thing, meant to be kept in secret. She doubted he would see it that way, even if she explained it, but it still felt wrong to bring it up.  
      
    “I find I can’t argue with that,” Loki said wryly, an appreciative glint in his eyes. “You first, however. Then I shall tell you a story.”  
      
    Sigyn took a deep breath, pondering where to start. Finally she decided to see how much he knew of Jotunheim, to see how much she’d have to explain. “Do you know why we had temples in Jotunheim?”   
      
    Loki considered her question briefly. “You worship your land. Snow, ice, rain, those are all the things you pay tribute to. You believe that you were born from ice and return to it after your death.”  
      
    Sigyn bit back a laugh, though she did smile a little. “That is only part of it,” she said. “Yes, we believe we were born from the land, and that is why our bodies are cold and blue, just as the ice is. We ‘pay tribute’, as you say, to that idea in our temples.  
      
    “But the temples in Jotunheim serve a bigger purpose; they are places where we learn, where we keep our knowledge. Just as Asgard has books from every Realm, so too did the temples in Jotunheim, once. We wrote the books ourselves and kept them in our temples. The--” She faltered slightly, scrunching up her nose as she tried to find the right word. “What do you call someone who lives and serves the temple and teaches the people who come to it?”  
      
    “Priest,” Loki said. The word sounded odd on his tongue, as if he didn’t say it often. Sigyn realized a moment later that Asgard had no temples, therefore no priests of its own. The word must have been borrowed from elsewhere.  
      
    “Priest,” Sigyn said, stumbling over the word. “The priest were the ones who kept everything in order. They wrote books, they traveled to other temples around Jotunheim to spread, share and gather new knowledge. They taught those who came to the temples to learn. But,” Sigyn continued, “priest could never have families of their own. Once you devoted yourself to the temple, you devoted your entire self. Your purpose in life was to help the temple live and continue the sharing of knowledge. Not yourself.”  
      
    Loki was watching her intently, almost unblinkingly. She didn’t find it unsettling, though. It wasn’t a bad sort of stare--he was interested in her story, in her, and he was paying attention. Very few had ever done that for her before.  
      
    “My mother,” Sigyn continued, “was a priest. She went into it willingly when she was a small child. Younger than Nanna and Lofn are now. She loved the temple, absolutely, and considered it worth losing the chance of having a family for. She had wanted a family, but she loved her books more.”  
      
    Loki’s lips twitched and Sigyn stopped, staring at him. “What?”  
      
    “Nothing,” Loki said. “Merely seeing the resemblance between mother and daughter.”  
      
    It took her a second to connect the two thoughts in her head, and when she did, she was rendered speechless for a moment. He had caught her in Gladsheim’s library and saw the piles of books she’d pulled out. Unwittingly, Loki had just given her the greatest compliment she’d ever received. Frigga had called her beautiful, and Sigyn knew she might be, in some ways. But to be called like her mother? That was better than being beautiful.   
      
    “I--yes,” Sigyn replied stupidly. “Um... I--I do not remember what I was saying now.”  
      
    “She wanted a family, but loved her books more,” Loki supplied.  
      
    “Thank you. Yes, she loved her books more, and loved traveling to the other temples as well. One day, only a small time before Laufey went to Midgard, she fell in love.” Sigyn shrugged. “These things happen, yes? You cannot know it. But my mother chose to act on it. She laid with him and, well, even her medicine against pregnancy could not help her much.”  
      
    “And so she had you,” Loki said.  
      
    “And so she had me,” Sigyn said with a nod. “My father went away to war for Laufey and died. My mother was thrown out of the temples and her title as priest was taken from her. When I was born and everyone saw that I was småen--a runt--they said it was her punishment for having me when she was a priest.”   
      
    She swallowed thickly, staring at her cup of water. Strangely, she wasn’t on the verge of tears like she had been when she told Loki about her mother’s death. Perhaps because this time she had prepared herself for this story, for telling it to someone else. It was easier to speak when she knew it’d been coming for a while.  
      
    “I was considered a creature of ill luck, so we were not allowed to stay in the cities. The tribes would not accept us either. Mother took me away from them all and found a place in isolation where she could raise me in peace. So,” Sigyn said with a small smile, “that is why I grew up alone until we moved to a city. Mother hoped that by teaching me what she knew of healing--only the medicine and potions, as I have no magic to do spells with--it would improve my standing with the other Jotnar. That I would be accepted because I could help people.”  
      
    “And was she correct?” Loki asked, his expression solemn.  
      
    “Yes and no,” Sigyn said. “People hated me more after Laufey lost us the Casket. As I said, I was considered a creature of ill luck and misfortune, so to see me was thought to be a sign of worse things to come. That I would bring them myself. Småen are known to be spiteful, vengeful, hateful creatures, or so the story goes.”   
      
    Her tone betrayed little emotion as she spoke. She was speaking a simple statement of fact, nothing more, even when the wounds from all the centuries of harsh words throbbed with old pain.   
      
    “But,” Sigyn went on, “when some saw how talented I was at healing, they grew to like me, or at least tolerate me. You see now why I say I do not strive to win the Aesir’s love, only their tolerance. It is what I am used to.”  
      
    Loki was silent for a long moment before speaking. “That seems rather unfair of your society, to cast someone out such as that,” Loki said mildly. Sigyn narrowed her eyes at him. She had not told him this story just so he could use it as fodder to further malign her people.  
      
    “And is every part of Asgard fair, my Prince?” she asked, her tone just as mild. “Do you not have some aspects that could be improved upon?”  
      
    Loki met her gaze with a frown, but he did not immediately retort with anything either.   
      
    After a moment, Sigyn relaxed and shook her head. “It does not matter now. The temples are gone, lost with the Casket. They were not immune to the ruin.”   
      
    “That’s a shame,” Loki said, and he sounded as if he truly meant it. It sounded inadequate to her, though. Three small words for the decaying of an entire society.   
      
    But she did not hold it against him for long. At least he was trying to understand. It was more than she’d get from some Aesir.   
      
    “It’s hard to believe your people allow Laufey to remain as king, given how much he’s failed them,” Loki said as he reached to refill her cup.   
      
    Sigyn could not bite back the spark of irritation at that. “You do not understand,” she said sharply. “Our royal line goes much the same as yours. A king gives birth to a child, that child becomes heir, and if the child lives long enough then he becomes the new king, or queen if it is a woman. Laufey is our king because he was born to be.”  
      
    “That doesn’t stand for much,” Loki said. “Subjects can make their kings fall easily, if given enough reason to.”  
      
    “Do you know _nothing_ of Laufey and Jotunheim?” Sigyn said, close to snapping. At Loki’s quirked eyebrow she took a deep breath to calm herself. Of course he didn’t understand her people; he was Aesir. How could he?   
  
    “Laufey is the first King who truly united the Jotnar. Before him, we were scattered and unkind to each other, staying to our own tribes and suspicious of those who were not our own. The priest stayed in their temples. Laufey’s father had begun to build cities with the Casket, but most Jotnar were not kindly towards them.  
      
    “Laufey changed that. He united them, or at least far more of them than any King before him. He finished building the cities his father started and then built bigger ones, better ones, all with the Casket. He opened pathways for the priest to safely travel to other temples and share their knowledge with the tribes. He did great things, Loki. So great that the people still believe in him even if he no longer has the Casket.”  
      
    Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, Sigyn breathing heavily and Loki looking contemplative.   
      
    “But then he wanted to claim Midgard as his own,” Loki finally said. “He would have enslaved the mortals after killing most of them, all so Jotunheim could have--what? Another Realm to call its own?”  
      
    Sigyn sighed, rubbing her face with her hand. “I do not agree with his decision to attack Midgard,” she said. “The mortals should be left alone. They are small now, but they have potential, yes? They could be great one day. But they would not have become so under Laufey. Yes, he would have killed most of them and enslaved the rest. It was wrong of him.”   
      
    She gave Loki a level stare then. “But if you hate him and base everything you think of him on that, then what must you think of the Allfather, who trampled Vanaheim and Alfheim in much the same way?”   
      
    Loki’s eyes widened and Sigyn realized she had crossed a line. She had just spoken treason to the Crown Prince, against his own father. She had grown too comfortable with him and had let slip her true thoughts. She sighed again, suddenly weary of this game. The second they both made any progress in their relationship, she would stumble somehow and make him angry at her. Or he would do something that would anger her instead.   
      
    Why could they not simply understand each other and get along?   
      
    Loki opened his mouth and Sigyn prepared for the reprimand. “You hate the Allfather.”  
      
    That was not what she’d been expecting. It took her a second to react. “No,” she said. “I do not hate him. I... I fear him. As all Jotnar do, and how could we not? But I do not hate him.”  
      
    Loki nodded slowly. “I feel the need to point it out to you that, as you accuse me of basing everything I believe about Laufey on one action of his, you are doing the same to my Father.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at him. Then realized he was absolutely right. She knew Odin as the cruel, bloodthirsty, merciless warmonger who took Jotunheim’s means of survival away from them. She had believed that to be the whole of him and feared him for it, without stopping to consider everything else. She had not considered his wife, who was kind, and how could a woman like Frigga stand to be around someone like Odin? She wouldn’t, Sigyn realized.   
      
    Just as Laufey had done good things, so too had Odin. Sigyn had to acknowledge that.  
      
    But that did not absolve Odin of the harm he had done, either. Yes, perhaps he was more than what the Jotnar believed him to be. They believed him to be evil for a reason, however, and that reason was taken from history.   
      
    Sigyn looked away, partly ashamed and partly unrepentent for how she was feeling. “So I am,” she said with a small nod. “Oh, Loki,” she sighed. “How are we to unite our two Realms when our people hate each other so? When we cannot see each other past villains in a story?”  
      
    Loki paused and Sigyn glanced up at him to see him shift awkwardly. He wasn’t used to comforting people, it seemed. “We try our best,” he said at length. “That’s all we can do, Sigyn.”  
      
    She managed a small smile, grateful that he hadn’t gotten angry with her. “And perhaps teach both of our people about each other, in the process?”  
      
    Loki smiled back. “Perhaps so, yes.”  
      
    She paused awkwardly. “I am sorry for speaking of your Father in that way. Even if it is what I truly feel, it... was not right.”  
      
    Loki waved a hand dismissively. “I’d rather you be honest with me than lie, Sigyn. You’re not the first person to have said such things about Father.” He paused, his gaze going slightly distant. “Indeed, you’re not the first one to disagree with him on certain things at all.”  
      
    She tilted her head at him, curious, but found she did not want to pry into who he meant just now. If he wanted to tell her, he would. Instead, Sigyn sought to get off this subject entirely before she could press her luck further. She dragged her chair closer to him and set her elbows on her knees, putting her chin in her hands as she regarded him.  
      
    He looked back at her, amused. “Yes?”  
      
    “You promised me a story,” Sigyn said. “Can I have it now?”  
      
    Loki blinked, then surprised her entirely by laughing. It was a quiet laugh, smooth to the ears, and he looked different from how he normally did. It lit up his face in a way she hadn’t seen yet. Even his smiles did not entirely reach his eyes, sometimes. Sigyn found herself smiling at him, even as he shook his head.  
      
    “A few notes before I go on,” Loki said. “The plural of priest is priests. Not just ‘priest.’”  
      
    It took her a second to realize what he was saying. When she did, she started laughing. It was embarrassing, but at the same time, it was nice that he had been able to ignore it in favour of her story. “You should have told me!” she exclaimed between laughs.  
      
    He shrugged. “It was...” He paused, then continued, “It wasn’t worth mentioning at the time.”   
      
    She could have sworn he’d been ready to say something else, but before she could press him on it, he gave her a piercing look. “Your mother. What was her name?”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, taken aback. “Brynja. Her name was Brynja. Why...?”  
      
    “Idle curiousity,” Loki said. “It didn’t feel right not to have a name attached to a person. Now, as for your story...” He leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “As for your story, hm. Let me think.”  
      
    While he did that, Sigyn found herself studying him. He was a confusing man, something she already knew well. This, at least, she thought he was sincere in. He wanted to make things tolerable between them. But there were large parts of him she didn’t know yet, and maybe never would. He was a heavily guarded man, she could see that now.   
      
    Sigyn wasn’t certain if she wanted to work past his defenses or not. That felt too intimate, somehow. As if she had any right to do that.  
      
    Loki shifted in his seat and nodded to himself. “Once, when my brother and I were young, we were traveling,” he began. Sigyn tried to keep her expression blank when she realized the brother he was talking about was Thor. “We traveled to the very outskirts of Asgard, past the farmlands and apple fields, right into the mountains. We intended to stay for quite a while.  
      
    “While we were there, we came across two proud goats,” Loki continued, then paused when he realized Sigyn didn’t know what they looked like. “I’ll show them to you later. These goats were large--larger than you, Sigyn, and Thor and myself. Big enough to ride or pull a cart for us.”  
      
    She frowned. They had animals that could be used for riding on Jotunheim as well, but most chose to journey by foot. She wasn’t entirely certain she was liking where this story was heading.  
      
    “So, for fun, I convinced Thor that if he managed to break those two goats and claim them as his own steeds, the people would be in awe of him and his kingly abilities. No one else had goats as steeds, so why not the Crown Prince of Asgard?”  
      
    Sigyn stared at him, and Loki shrugged. “It took him months and many, many hours of embarrassment. In the end, he had the dwarves of Nidavellir make him a bridle that could break any creature. It still took him a while to actually get the thing on to both goats, but when he did, they bowed before him and were his. He rode back to Asgard victorious.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at him some more and he returned her stare. Then she realized that there was a trick in this, somewhere. He wanted her to see something, but what was it? All she saw was a story of two over indulged boys thinking they could own everything, and one of them getting it in the end.  
      
    Except...  
      
    “You did not want him to have the goats?” Sigyn ventured carefully, uncertain if she was right. “You had a--you were trying to teach him a lesson. Yes?”  
      
    Loki merely took a sip of his water.  
      
    “Because,” she said slowly, reasoning it out, “if he failed in claiming the goats as his own, he would have been humbled. He would have learned that he could not have everything simply because he was the future King.” She paused then, frowning again. “But if he succeeded, he would have been more convinced of his superiority.”   
      
    “Or he would have been convinced that he was meant to be King, if he’d been having some feelings of self-doubt,” Loki said. “Which do you think, Sigyn?”  
      
    Sigyn took a deep breath. “The first,” she said without hesitation. “You were trying to teach him to be humble. Yes?”  
      
    “Or I was playing a cruel trick on my older brother,” Loki said. “I’m known for tricks and mischief in Asgard.”  
      
    “As you say,” Sigyn said, not doubting it at all, “but I still think it is the first one.”  
      
    “Why?” Loki asked, staring at her intently.   
      
    Sigyn paused, trying not to fidget under his gaze. “Either choice--my first one and the one you told me--would be possible. But the eldest Prince must have been a little... forgive me, my Prince, but over indulged and used to getting his way. He would expect to get his way.”  
      
    “And what would you say to me if I told you I was really only playing a cruel jest at my brother’s expense?”   
      
    “Then I would say it was not kind of you,” Sigyn said. “If I were allowed to speak freely, that is.”  
      
    “You’re allowed, Sigyn,” Loki said quietly, setting his cup down. “We must both speak freely with each other now.”  
      
    There was a brief stretch of silence before Sigyn spoke up. “Which was it, my Prince?”  
      
    Loki merely smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “The first, though I have played tricks on my brother before that were cruel. That was not one of them. I only wanted to see what you thought I had done.” He refilled her cup again, though the water had long gone warm. “And what was your impression of my story?”  
      
    Sigyn stalled for time by taking a long gulp of her drink. It was clear Loki had meant it as some sort of test, just like their first meeting. She can only hope she had passed it.  
      
    “It was fine,” Sigyn said. “But I do realize you are trying to tell me about Prince Thor so that I do not think so poorly of him anymore.”  
      
    Loki seemed surprised at first, then laughed quietly. “Perhaps I am. Would you blame me for it if I were?”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “He is your brother. You love him. When people spoke badly of my Mother, I wished to tell them my own stories so they would not.” She looked down to her cup, unable to meet his gaze suddenly. “You must dislike me for speaking so about your family.”  
      
    “I don’t dislike you,” Loki said. “Merely interested in getting you to see the other side to things.”  
      
    “As I wish to do with you,” Sigyn said sincerely. Then she paused. “May we do this again soon? Tell each other stories?”  
      
    Loki smiled slightly, still holding back with her a little. But at least this smile reached his eyes more than his others had. “We may, when we have time. Though we shouldn’t do it frequently until our betrothal is announced, or people may become suspicious.”  
      
    “I understand.”  
      
    “I think there’s hope for us as a married couple yet, Sigyn.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled back at him. “There is always hope, Loki.”


	12. A True Jotun

"How have you been enjoying your time with Loki?"

Sigyn blinked, drawn out of her thoughts to Frigga. They were in the gardens, enjoying the new blooms, and Frigga was teaching her how to make a flower crown. It was pleasant enough, she supposed, though she worried about the effect her cold hands had on the flowers.

At Sigyn's slightly confused expression, Frigga smiled. "Dagny's told me you've been spending time with him."

Sigyn stayed silent at that. She'd long ago figured that Dagny and others were reporting to the Queen on all her doings. It hurt to have confirmation of that, though. Even when Dagny wasn't with her, Sigyn knew she was still being watched carefully. She did not expect that to stop even when she married Loki.

"It is fine, yes," Sigyn said at length, turning her attention back to her flower crown. "He is a kind man."

"What do you speak of when you're with him?"

"Asgard, books, stories... whatever comes to mind."

Frigga waited for more, but when it became clear Sigyn wasn't going to divulge anything else, she turned her attention back to Sigyn's flower crown. "Have you anything like this in Jotunheim?"

"No," Sigyn said. "We do wear things in our hair, or most of us used to," she said. Before everything fell apart, she added in her own mind. "There are still tribes left who wear animal bones or feathers in their hair."

Frigga was not quick enough to hide the slight flicker of revulsion in her expression. Sigyn let her eyes drop back to her crown as she threaded her stems together.

"And there were some who wore jewelry in their hair. There are some tribes of Jotnar who grow their hair out to their knees and decorate it. There are some who go bald and wear our most treasured, bright green rock as a decoration of sorts." She shrugged. "It just depends. But most do not wear flowers in their hair."

"I see," Frigga said at length. "Well, here in Asgard, you'll be wearing flowers in your hair for the summer festival. It's almost the middle of summer now, and we always hold a small celebration on the exact day halfway through."

"I know," Sigyn said, smiling slightly to take the sting out of her words. "Nanna and Lofn told me, yes? And they say that married women wear jeweled flowers in their hair instead."

"That's right," Frigga said.

Sigyn did not want to be unkind, but even though she was sitting underneath the shade of a tall tree, she wished Frigga would let her go back to Gladsheim. It was quickly approaching midday and the heat was becoming unbearable, even in the shadows. The air was stagnant, making it worse. Soon Sigyn thought the heat would become so unbearable that she would not be able to leave Gladsheim at all until the season changed.

She knew that would not be an option during the festival, though. Frigga expected her to join in and enjoy herself. She only hoped she had some water on hand when the time came, or some place she could sit.

"I was wondering if you and I could have a moment after the dinner?" Frigga asked, startling Sigyn out of her thoughts. "There's something I wish to speak with you about."

"Yes, my Queen."

"And I was wondering if you could convince Helblindi to leave his chambers tonight and join us for dinner?" Frigga asked, watching Sigyn intently.

"I-I do not think so," she said honestly. "Helblindi and I have never been close, and he will not listen to me."

"Try," Frigga said. "You've been doing an admirable and wonderful job acclimating to Asgard and helping along the peace treaty, but we need your cousin as well. He cannot continue hiding away from us."

 _He can_ , Sigyn thought, _and he will._

Realizing she had no other option, Sigyn nodded slowly. "I will try, my Queen."

Frigga mercifully let her leave a while later. Though she wanted nothing more than to just lie down in her bed and sleep off the heat, Sigyn made her way to Helblindi's chambers. It was better to simply get it over and done with, and she knew it might take her the few hours between now and dinner to convince him to come out.

It was only when she approached his door that she realized it might be wrong of her to go in unattended. Not only had she had both Dagny and another male servant with her most of the times she visited Helblindi, the memory of him slapping her came back to her in a rush. Perhaps if there were others nearby, he would not be so brazen in his hatred.

She dismissed that thought immediately. He would be that brazen, and he would have hit harder if there were others around in order to prove himself.

Sigyn debated with herself for only a brief moment. She knocked on his door and even though she received no response, she let herself in a few seconds afterwards.

Helblindi's chamber was as dark and cool as ever. She let out a small sigh once the coldness clung to her skin. Even though leaving the door open would let that cool air leak out, she did so anyway. She was not going to face Helblindi in the utter darkness.

"Helblindi," she said, "it is Sigyn."

"Come to mewl at me some more?" Helblindi asked, and once her eyes adjusted she found him sitting at the end of his bed. Sigyn stepped inside, startling when her shoes slipped on the floor. Grabbing the wall to steady herself, she saw that he'd covered his entire chamber in a thick layer of ice.

"Yes," Sigyn answered, bending down to take off her shoes. She set them outside the room, then stepped easily onto the ice with her bare feet. "At the Queen's request, I have come to tell you you are expected to join the Aesir at dinner tonight."

"You may tell the Queen to go find a sword to fall on," Helblindi said, and Sigyn bit back a sigh of frustration.

"It is not something you can refuse, Helblindi," she said gently, coming further into the room but still keeping a good distance between them. "You are expected, and so you must go."

"Must I?"

Sigyn didn't bother deigning that with a response. She simply waited, staring at him until his red eyes met her own.

Helblindi smirked once he saw her and leaned back. "You look like a proper Aesir lady now," he said mockingly. "Soon you will have flowers in your hair and a long line of men who wish to wed you."

"Must we keep doing this, Helblindi?" Sigyn asked, her tone tired. "I am very much aware that you do not like me, and I have known this fact for centuries now. I cannot say I am overly fond of you, either. But we could at least tolerate each other for the good of Jotunheim."

"You speak of the good of Jotunheim, but how can it be good to continue to be put under the control of the Allfather and his ilk?" Helblindi asked. "If you truly wanted the best for Jotunheim, you would see that it does not lie with Odin."

"And in a perfect Nine, that would be possible," Sigyn said. "It is not possible here." You have your father to thank for that, Sigyn thought bitterly, then regretted it immediately. Laufey had been a king, just as Odin, and just like Odin he had sought to expand his kingdom. Odin had been successful in his claiming of Vanaheim and Alfheim. Laufey had not.

"We must play by the tools given to us," Sigyn continued. "And that means, yes, dressing up like them and letting them speak down to you and make obscene remarks about your sex. Do you believe I enjoy this anymore than you do?"

"You must, or you would not allow it to happen," Helblindi said. "A true Jotun would-"

"I am a true Jotun," Sigyn snapped. "I may not act as you or your tribe do, but that does not make me any less of a Jotun than you. Beloved Nine, you are so frustrating! We have no choice, Helblindi," she said firmly. "Give up your stupid ideas of revenge and killing the Allfather and freeing Jotunheim from Asgard's control. It will never work, and you will get yourself killed and start a new war between our Realms. You are of more use to Jotunheim alive, and if you wish to risk your brother's and father's deaths with some ill conceived plan-"

"My father should have killed you when you came begging for his love and protection," Helblindi said, his voice rising above hers.

"But he did not," Sigyn said, stopping him from whatever he was about to say next. "He did not kill me then, and he did not kill me in the centuries I stayed with him. So let it go, Helblindi," she said. "Put aside your hatred of me and I will do the same for you, and maybe together we can help Jotunheim as much as we are able to in Asgard."

There was a tense silence broken only by their heavy, irritated breathing. Finally Helblindi glanced away and Sigyn took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Dinner," she said. "Tonight. The servant will come and get you. And if you refuse, I will come and get you myself," she said bluntly. Helblindi looked up at her in surprise. "Your anger is understandable. I am angry too. And it is not fair that Jotunheim will never be what it once was or that it will never be free of Asgard. But it is time to move on, and I am finished indulging your cruelty."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door firmly behind her. Picking up her shoes, she left them off as she walked briskly down the corridor, her feet leaving frosted footprints as she went. Once her anger subsided, she slowed her pace and eventually began simply wandering through the corridors, her limbs heavy from exhaustion.

 _I should have handled that better,_ Sigyn thought. _I should have been..._ what? Calmer, more patient? She had tried that before, and it had earned her pain. There was only so much she could be expected to take before she herself lost her temper. It did not happen often, but that didn't mean she didn't have one.

Still, at least now she could honestly say she had tried when Frigga asked her how it went.

After wandering further, Sigyn realized she had somehow stumbled upon Loki's study without meaning to. She had simply let her feet guide her and she had ended up at his door.

Deciding not to think on that too much, Sigyn lifted a hand to knock. She waited a moment before knocking again, then felt her shoulders sag when she realized he wasn't there. Of course he is not there, Sigyn thought, it is midday. He is with his father.

Shaking her head at herself, Sigyn left, uneasy with her disappointment at not finding Loki. Her task with Helblindi done, she allowed herself to return to her chambers and lay down until the evening meal. She could see Loki then.

* * *

Sigyn was still tired by the time the evening meal came round and she almost thought of refusing to go this one night. Then she remembered that Frigga had wished to see her afterwards and reluctantly let Dagny attend to her before heading down to the feasting hall.

As she had expected, she did not see Helblindi amongst the crowd when she entered. Feeling miserable that she had failed, Sigyn took her usual seat beside Frigga and set about to eating. She felt a gaze upon her a moment later and glanced up, meeting Loki's stare. She smiled briefly before looking away, not wanting to draw attention to the both of them.

The meal began as it usually did: Loud and unbearable. The men began singing drunkenly soon enough and soon Sigyn felt the beginnings of a headache to go along with her exhaustion. Since she knew she'd be there for several hours yet, she settled in for a long night when she heard the doors open and the crowd, one by one, slowly fall silent.

She turned to see what everyone else was looking at and dropped her goblet of water in shock when she saw Helblindi. The clang of the metal on the floor made her jump and everyone glance to her. Their attention was quickly taken back up by Helblindi, leaving Sigyn to flinch at herself in peace.

While a servant took care of the spilled water, Helblindi approached the Allfather and the Allmother. He stood for a moment, staring at them until the air became awkward, and then dipped into a formal bow.

"My most sincerest apologies for not attending the feasts until tonight," Helblindi said. "I do hope you can forgive me, my King, my Queen."

Sigyn stilled. _Helblindi, you fool, do not make a mockery of them!_

The Allfather's expression didn't change, but Frigga managed a smile and inclined her head. "We understand completely," she said. "These are very unusual circumstances and we do not blame you if you had trouble adjusting. Please, sit next to your cousin and enjoy our food and drink. Thank you for deciding to join us."

"Of course," Helblindi said, smiling slowly in a way that made Sigyn shiver in fear. The seat next to her was vacated and Helblindi took it up, looking for all the Nine as if he were utterly comfortable and without any fear of the silent warriors surrounding him.

 _He could have done a much better job than myself at this, if he had thought about it,_ Sigyn realized. _He is Laufey's son; he would have been taught about these things, how to talk to other royalty and how to hide his emotions. Whereas I have been crashing about this palace like a bilgesnipe._

Taking a long gulp of her new drink, Sigyn steadied herself before deciding to speak. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Your Father would be proud."

"Do not presume to know what my Father would think or feel of this," Helblindi said, but at least he said it just as quietly as her own voice so no one else would hear. "I have not done this for you. You could fall off the edge of this Realm and I would not give you a thought about it."

"Then why did you come tonight?" Sigyn asked, ignoring his remarks.

"There are only so many days one can spend in a tiny room before one grows bored."

Deciding he wouldn't tell her anything, Sigyn returned to her food. She caught Loki staring at her again and puzzled at the expression on his face. He seemed tense, and there was a downturn to his lips that made her think he was disapproving of something.

When he saw her staring back, Loki turned away back to the person he'd been speaking with. Slowly, all around them, the conversation was picking back up. But Sigyn thought that there was a new tension in the air, and an unwillingness to act as they had before.

Frankly, she was just glad the drunken singing had ended. She could deal with Helblindi and the tension if it meant her head wouldn't pound in time with some drunken Aesir's bellowing.

When at last the feast was over, Sigyn let out a small sigh of relief that it had passed without much incident. Helblindi had kept to himself, watching everyone in silence, and Sigyn had done more or less the same. She left before him, reluctantly. Frigga had led Helblindi over to Loki, and though she wished to stay and watch him, Frigga had sent her off to the Queen's sitting room for their talk.

Sigyn did not know why she was so nervous about leaving Helblindi with the Aesir. No, with Loki in particular, she realized. If he tried anything, he would be highly outnumbered and overpowered. Helblindi may not have had a mind for politics, but he was not an idiot when it came to battles. He would wait until Loki or his intended target was alone, and then kill them quickly.

 _Why am I thinking about this?_ Sigyn thought, shaking herself and picking up her pace. _Nothing like that will happen. Helblindi has no death wish. He speaks of killing the Allfather and he may mean it, but he will never go through with it. And he would not harm Loki either._

Somehow, she was not reassured.

Frigga joined her in the sitting room shortly after, giving Sigyn a welcome distraction from her unease. When she noticed that the Queen herself seemed anxious, though, Sigyn tensed and waited for the blow that must have been coming. The only times Frigga had ever looked as she did now was when she had bad news to tell Sigyn.

"I should have-" Frigga began after a moment. "No, I-before anything else, I would like to offer you an apology, Sigyn." Frigga raised a hand before she could say anything. "I should have told you about this sooner, and I did not. I was nervous, I can admit that, and I feared it would have been too much for you to handle so soon. You were already having to adjust to everything here, and I..."

Sigyn listened patiently as Frigga trailed off, then shook her head.

"There were plans made between Odin and Laufey that last day on Jotunheim when you came to us," Frigga said. "Plans to further the peace between our two Realms. Simply having hostages is not enough, I'm afraid. There needs to be a bond. A legal binding that ties us together in ways that taking hostages does not." Frigga took a deep breath. "Odin and Laufey agreed that there should be a marriage between a Jotun and an Aesir, in order to ensure the peace will never be broken."

Sigyn nearly let her shoulders sag in relief. She caught herself at the last second, remembering that she wasn't supposed to know this. She'd known for so long that it had ceased to be a surprise to her, and now she wasn't certain how to react.

"Oh," was all she said. She thought she sounded appropriately taken aback.

"So, what this means is... oh, Sigyn, darling. You're going to be married to Loki and made a Princess of Asgard, so as to bind the Realms together," Frigga said, putting her hand on Sigyn's clasped ones. "I'm sorry, I know this isn't ideal. I know it's likely terrifying, and-"

"My Queen," Sigyn said, making Frigga blink in surprise. "It is fine. I-I understand completely. I think I already knew that was the intention of all this," she said. "And it is fine, truly. I had no one in Jotunheim, and Prince Loki is a good man. It is for the good of Asgard and Jotunheim both."

Frigga stared at her, blue eyes wide in surprise. Then they narrowed. "Loki told you."

"No," Sigyn said, shaking her head. "I will admit, I did not know at first. But then I thought how strange it was that you would invite me to join you and the other ladies in the morning, and let me wear Aesir dresses, and teach me many things only an Aesir lady would need to know. It was not hard to guess, after that."

It wasn't technically a lie. Loki _hadn't_ been the first one to tell her; it had been Freyja. She only hoped Frigga believed her and didn't reprimand Loki for it.

Frigga peered at her for a long moment before leaning back in her chair. "I am sorry for this, truly, Sigyn," Frigga said. "If we could, we wouldn't make you do this."

"As I said," Sigyn shrugged, "Prince Loki is a good man, and it is for the better of the two Realms. I will admit to being a little-uncertain, I suppose, but I will do as I must."

Frigga was silent before quietly speaking up. "You're a very admirable, brave girl, Sigyn. Asgard will be very lucky to have you for its Princess."

Sigyn bit her lip, uncomfortable. "Thank you, my Queen."

"Go on, now," Frigga said. "Return to your chambers. We can speak of this again in the morning, and about what your duties will be once we announce the betrothal. You have some time to prepare, we won't be announcing it until the next summer festival in the middle of the season."

Sigyn nodded slowly, then carefully ventured, "And when are Prince Loki and I to be married?"

"This fall, at the very beginning," Frigga said. "As you can imagine, we need to do these things very quickly and set the treaty in place."

"I see," Sigyn said. "And-Helblindi? What will happen to him?"

Frigga sighed. "If I had a daughter, the same would go for him. But I only have two sons, so all our hopes rest with you and Loki."

Strangely, that fact didn't terrify her. Sigyn thought it should have, but all she felt was a comfortable calm. "He will take it as an insult that I am made a royal and he is left as a hostage."

"I know," Frigga said. "We will think of something for him. Now, truly, you should go and rest. It'll be a busy day tomorrow."

"Goodnight, my Queen."

"Sigyn," Frigga sighed, smiling in exasperation. "I'm to be your mother-by-law. Surely you can call me Frigga now?"

Sigyn smiled and curtseyed. "One day, my Queen. For now, goodnight."


	13. Summer Festival

    If Sigyn had thought her daily routine would change much now that Frigga had told her the truth, she’d been wrong. She still went to breakfast with the Queen and spent the morning with the other ladies, then left to her own devices for the afternoon. Lofn, Nanna and Dagny were rarely far behind, constant reminders that she was being watched not only by them but also by everyone else in Gladsheim.   
      
    But she found she had an easier time ignoring it than she used to. She’d gotten used to it, in a way.  
      
    Helblindi began joining them for the evening meals, and soon his presence became a usual sight. Sigyn almost wished for the days when he had refused to leave his room. He always sat next to her at the table, and she would always fall silent and tense when he was near. Frigga never noticed, but Loki, it seemed, did.   
      
    “Is your cousin unkind to you?” Loki asked one day when they had run into each other. He walked beside her, his pace slow. Since she had nowhere she had to be so urgently, Sigyn matched his pace.   
      
    She blinked in surprise. “I--why do you ask, my Prince?”  
      
    “I see how quiet you become when he’s with us at dinner,” Loki said, giving her a sidelong glance. “And when he bothers himself to speak to you, it seems as if his tone is short.”  
      
    Sigyn wondered how a tone of voice could have a height, but she didn’t ask. Instead she said, “We do not like each other. He is simply more honest in his dislike than I am.”  
      
    Loki smirked slightly. “I find it hard to believe he’s more honest in something than you are.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled, ducking her head shyly. “I do speak my mind, it is true.”  
      
    “Which is a fine trait,” Loki said, quietly, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it at all or have her hear it. Sigyn wasn’t certain how to respond, or even if she should, so she simply let the silence draw on.   
      
    They came upon a balcony looking out over Asgard’s city and the ocean. Sigyn stopped for a moment, putting a hand on the balcony wall and breathing in the scent of salted air. Loki came to stand by her, and a few feet away, Dagny stopped. Sigyn wished the servant didn’t have to follow her everywhere these days, but she knew better than to say anything about it.  
      
    “Mother tells me she is to announce our betrothal at the second summer festival,” Loki said at length.  
      
    “She said the same to me.” Sigyn traced meaningless patterns on the golden metal wall. Her fingertips left a faint trace of frost behind which quickly melted in the afternoon heat. “Will you be there?”  
      
    “I am a Prince of Asgard,” Loki said. “It’s my duty to attend. What of you?”  
      
    Sigyn nodded. “I am.” She bit her lip nervously. “I do not know what I am supposed to do there.”  
      
    “Dance, eat, and get to know your future subjects,” Loki said, shrugging a shoulder. “You and I will be expected to dance at least once, when the betrothal is announced.”  
      
    Sigyn wondered what Loki looked like when he danced. She’d seen a few of the Aesir dance at feasts sometimes. Their dances were so strange compared to the way her people danced. It was almost as if they were constricted, tense, and only allowed to dance certain ways.   
      
    “I will try not to hurt your feet,” Sigyn finally said, smiling.  
      
    Loki glanced at her, taken aback, before laughing quietly and shaking his head. They shared another comfortable silence for a while before Loki stepped away. “I have other duties to attend to. I’ll see you tonight, my Lady.”  
      
    Sigyn bobbed a curtsey. “Tonight, my Prince.”  
      
    Loki turned to go, then hesitated. “If you cousin is cruel to you again, Sigyn... tell someone so that he can be shown the error of his ways.”   
      
    She met his gaze, blinking when she saw how intense it was. She shivered. “I do not think that would work.”  
      
    “Then come tell me,” Loki said, “and it will.” Without saying anything else, he turned and left, leaving her staring after him.  
      
    Dagny came up to her once Loki disappeared from view. “You seem to get along well now.”  
      
    Silently, Sigyn nodded. Finally she found her voice and said, “I am glad for that. Truly. He is a very strange man,” she said. “But good, I think.”  
      
    Realizing she was still staring at where he’d left them, Sigyn shook herself and smiled at Dagny. “Never mind, let us go find Lofn and Nanna, yes? They said they would help me finish my dress.”  
      
    Pushing aside her thoughts of Loki, Sigyn went to find her friends. She would think on the Prince later, or maybe not at all, given how confused she was.     

* * *

     
    The day of the summer festival came too soon for Sigyn’s liking. She was woken up before dawn by Dagny, who brought a host of other servants with her. Sigyn stumbled through her bath, then nearly fell asleep in her chair as Dagny did her hair.   
      
    As they slipped on her dress, Sigyn muttered, “How long will the festival go on today?”  
      
    “Well into the night, my Lady,” Dagny said, her tone sympathetic. As a servant, she wasn’t wearing anything but her normal dress for the day. Her only indulgence was a small pink flower tucked behind her ear. “But you may be able to leave earlier if the Queen allows it.”  
      
    Sigyn bit back a groan and yawned instead. She didn’t know how she was to survive the day as exhausted as she was.  
      
    When the servants were done with their work, Sigyn took a long look at herself in the mirror.   
      
    Whether it was because she was so tired or something else, she found herself feeling apathetic towards her appearance. The dress was beautiful, there was no doubt of that; the yellow fabric did not overwhelm her dark blue skin, and the embroidery at the hemline and chest was gorgeous, thanks to Lofn and Nanna’s instruction. Her hair flowed freely, as she was still unmarried, and her curls shone due to Dagny’s careful pampering. The flowers entwined her her hair covered her in a heavy, unyielding floral scent that was making her feel slightly sick.  
      
    _Do I look beautiful?_ Sigyn wondered. _Or do I simply look out of place and silly?_  
      
    “The Prince won’t know what to do with himself when he sees you,” Dagny whispered, smiling at her encouragingly in the mirror, her hands on Sigyn’s shoulders.  
      
    Sigyn managed a smile back, putting her hand on Dagny’s. It surprised her to realize she didn’t know what she’d do without Dagny. The Aesir had become a pillar for her, in a way. “It is all thanks to you, my friend.”  
      
    Dagny blushed and inclined her head. Then she stepped back and nodded. “We’ll be late if we don’t leave now. The Queen wishes to escort you out herself. You’ll be walking behind her and the Allfather, and then sitting with them at the table. Only after you break your fast may you be allowed to stand up and leave the table.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded. “Do you know when the Queen will announce the betrothal?”  
      
    Dagny shook her head. “No, but usually the betrothal announcements are done after the midday. During the morning everyone dances and celebrates, and give gifts.”  
      
    So it would be a while before these nerves left her, then. Sigyn held back a sigh and followed Dagny out to where the Queen was waiting for them.   
      
    “Oh, Sigyn,” Frigga said. “You look beautiful!”  
      
    Sigyn curtseyed. “Thank you, my Queen.”   
      
    In truth, Sigyn didn’t know how she looked beautiful next to Frigga. The Queen was dressed exquisitely, in a green dress with gold embroidery and jewelry. The only red she wore came from the earrings that sparkled in the sunlight. Her long cape had patterns cut out of it.  
      
    “Are you ready?” Frigga asked, her expression excited, and perhaps a little hesitant.  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said, smiling for her. She glanced around the waiting ladies, spying Freyja in a shocking red dress, as well as Lofn and Nanna. There were also some men Sigyn only vaguely remembered. The one Nanna kept sneaking glances at must have been Baldr. There was also a man with only one hand who looked as if he’d rather be somewhere else.  
      
    Sigyn hesitated. “Ah, where are the Allfather and the Prince?”  
      
    “They’ll be here in a minute,” Frigga said, readjusting the clasp of her cape. “Then we will leave.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed back her sudden anxiety and ran her hands over the skirt of her dress. No one came to speak to her while they waited, which she was fine with. She needed a moment to herself.   
      
    Would Loki like her dress? Sigyn didn’t think so, if only because she was wearing it. He would be polite and say she looked pretty, but it wouldn’t be anything other than propriety. Would it? Sigyn found herself wishing it could be more. She wanted him to like the dress--wanted him to like her.   
      
    _What has happened to me?_ Sigyn wondered. _When did I begin so desperately wishing for his approval?_  
      
    Her thoughts were interrupted moments later before she could begin to think of an answer. The Allfather came to greet Frigga, dressed in his ceremonial robes. Loki was not far behind, wearing silken robes of green and gold.   
      
    Sigyn felt her heart jump at the sight of him and clasped her hands tightly to keep from reaching out to feel the fabric. Loki caught her gaze and paused, his eyes briefly traveling down, before he inclined his head towards her. She curtseyed back, not certain how to take his reaction.  
      
    Then, behind Loki, came Helblindi. He was dressed in cold blue ceremonial robes as well; the poor dressmakers must have had to work all day and night in order to get them ready in time for the festival. Her nerves worsened at seeing him. She may have eventually enjoyed the festivities, had he not been there as well.   
      
    Loki caught her gaze again and held it. Sigyn took a deep breath to quell her anxiety and nodded slightly at him before turning away to take her place behind Frigga. To her surprise, Loki came to stand beside her.   
      
    At her questioning look, he said, “Mother said I should escort you.” He offered her his elbow, just as Odin had done to Frigga.  
      
    Sigyn hesitated only briefly in taking it, marveling at how warm he was. She tried not to think of how easy it would be to pull back the sleeves of his robes and touch the bare skin of his arm that was hidden underneath.  
      
    Once everyone was in position, the massive doors to Gladsheim opened. Frigga and the Allfather led the way out while Sigyn blinked at the sudden sunlight. The grounds of Gladsheim were eerily quiet, all the servants elsewhere attending to the festival matters.   
      
    But when they left the gate of Gladsheim, there was suddenly a roaring cheer from the crowds gathered outside. Sigyn’s grip on Loki’s arm tightened, even as she smiled and tried to regard the Aesir as warmly as Frigga was. Their cheers dimmed when they saw both her and Helblindi, and Sigyn saw more than one person whispering to another and pointing at her.   
      
    Eventually, she turned her gaze away to stare at the back of Frigga’s cape. It seemed the safest option.   
      
    “You’ll be fine,” Loki said softly, leaning in slightly. He didn’t look at her, instead focusing on the crowds. “They will be used to you one day.”  
      
    “And until then?” Sigyn asked. “What will they do until they are used to me?”  
      
    Loki paused before putting his hand over top of hers. Sigyn stared at it, amazed at how soft his skin was. “They’ll ignore you or speak badly of you, but they will not harm you.”  
      
    Somehow, his honesty made her feel better. Sigyn gave him a grateful smile and he smiled back before letting his hand drop back to his side. She resisted the urge to reach for it again and sighed in relief when they reached the table in the main square of the town. It was decorated with flowers and long, thin strips of colourful fabric that swayed and blew in the wind.   
      
    The Allfather and Frigga sat down first, then Loki parted from her side and sat on the other side of Odin. Sigyn swallowed her disappointment and sat down next to Frigga. Helblindi, thankfully, sat next to Loki. Sigyn relaxed slightly now that he was some lengths away from her.   
      
    When everyone was situated, the feast began. She was surprised to see the servants had given her meade. She’d thought it would have been water. Shrugging, Sigyn drank it anyway, deciding she could send it away later and ask for water then.  
      
    The square quickly filled up with people dancing and laughing, and music carried through the air. Sigyn watched, smiling in spite of her nervousness. Everyone was joyous and happy, and it was infectious. These dances were different than the ones she’d seen inside Gladsheim; where those were tightly controlled, these were not. There was running and jumping and laughter, and it reminded Sigyn of Jotunheim so starkly that her heart ached underneath her happiness.  
      
    When Dagny came by and gave her some gifts, Sigyn’s surprise caused her to laugh, which for the moment allowed her to forget her heartache.  
      
    “These are from Lady Lofn and Lady Nanna,” Dagny said, laying out new embroidery floss and a full set of needles. “This is from Lady Freyja.” Dagny set down an icy blue jeweled belt, stiff with embroidery of snowflakes and winter flowers. Sigyn ran her fingertips over it appreciatively. “This is from the Queen,” Dagny continued, holding up a beautiful head circlet that glinted in the sunlight.  
      
    “Thank you, Dagny,” she said. “Please, go enjoy the festival, I will be fine here.”  
      
    “Wait,” Dagny said. “There’s one more.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a simple silver chain, from which hung a small purple pendant. “This is from the Prince.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at it in shock before numbly taking it from Dagny. It was such a small thing, almost too plain to be considered an appropriate gift. But Sigyn loved it. She held it in her hands carefully, smiling to herself. She turned to look at Loki, her smile broadening when she saw him looking at her.  
      
    _Thank you_ , she mouthed to him. Loki simply inclined his head again before turning away, but Sigyn swore she saw the hint of a satisfied and pleased smile on his lips.  
      
    Sigyn had Dagny send the presents to her room, keeping only the pendant which she immediately put on. For once, she didn’t care if it broke some tradition or custom or if it was considered rude. She wanted to wear it now, and so she would.   
      
    When the morning meal was done, several of the ladies stood up from the table to go dance. Lofn all but dragged Nanna over to Baldr, where the poor girl blushed fiercely but managed to stammer out an invitation. Baldr’s smile nearly outshone the sun, as did Nanna’s happiness when he took her hand and led her out onto the square.   
      
    Sigyn was content to watch her friends enjoy themselves, but a hand landed on her shoulder a second later. She looked up to see Loki standing beside her. “Shall we, my Lady?”  
      
    She smiled, heart fluttering as she stood up. “Yes, my Prince.”  
      
    He took her down to the square, neatly navigating her through the mass of people. When they came to a clear spot, he turned to her and took her hands in his. “Tell me when you need to rest,” he said quietly, and Sigyn nodded.  
      
    Then, at the next beat, they were off. She followed Loki easily around the square, their feet hitting the stones hard as they followed the steps of the lively dance. Her hair flew into her face and some of her flowers fell and were crushed underfoot, and within moments she was all too aware of the heat.  
      
    But she didn’t care. Not at all. Not while Loki held on to her hands and her voice carried throughout the clearing in her laughter. The music seemed to sink into her very bones and compel her to dance. It’d been so long since she had that she’d forgotten how freeing, how beautiful it was to simply let go and celebrate her very existence, feel her heart pounding in her chest and her blood rushing through her veins.   
      
    She caught glimpses of Loki as they went around the square. His hair was coming loose from the slicked back style he always wore it in, falling into his eyes. A flush had risen to his cheeks and he still held himself tense, but--  
      
    But he smiled at her and Sigyn smiled back, and briefly she thought that she could love him one day.   
      
    That realization made her stumble, her foot catching on a stone, and then she fell. Her teeth bit her lip as her chin hit the ground, and a foot suddenly connected with her shoulder. She registered a surprised yelp through her pain and then the music stopped.  
      
    “My Lady,” Loki said, kneeling down to her. “Are you hurt?”  
      
    “N-No,” Sigyn managed, sitting up. Now that her shock and pain were wearing off, it was quickly being replaced with humiliation. “I am fine, I promise, I only slipped--”  
      
    “You should sit back down,” Loki said, helping her to stand. Sigyn avoided looking at him or anyone else who was staring at her.   
      
    They were halfway to the table when Sigyn suddenly realized there was a weight missing from her neck. Her hand went to where the pendant had been resting and her heart dropped when she realized it was gone.  
      
    “My necklace!” Sigyn spun around back to the dancing square, looking for it amongst the stones. When she spotted a glint of purple, however, it wasn’t from the ground--it was from the hand of a small child who had picked it up and was leaving the square. “Wait!”  
      
    She wrenched herself from Loki’s grasp and went running after the child, keeping her gaze on the blonde curls that bobbed through the crowds. “Please wait!”   
      
    She shoved through the people, vaguely hearing Loki calling after her. The crowd made the heat worse, and Sigyn felt her stomach begin to roil. _I cannot get sick now,_ she thought desperately. _Not until I have that necklace again._  
      
    The blonde curls disappeared from her sight and Sigyn bit back a cry. She despaired of ever getting the necklace back when suddenly the throngs of people lessened. She found herself in an alley of sorts, the child just ahead of her.  
      
    The little girl blinked at her, blue eyes wide. The necklace was still in her hand. “Please,” Sigyn said. “That is mine. I dropped it. May I have it back?”  
      
    The child clutched the necklace to her and shook her head. “Mine.”  
      
    “No, no,” Sigyn said. “My friend gave that to me. A very dear friend. I would hate to lose it. Please,” she said, stepping further and plaintively holding out a hand. “I will buy you another, but I would like you to return that to me.”  
      
    “No!” The child wailed and Sigyn, surprised, stepped back. Frost formed on the stones and walls next to her.  
      
    “Wait, please, do not cry--”  
      
    “What is she doing?”  
      
    “Did she attack that child?”  
      
    Sigyn turned in horror, realizing that some of the Aesir had seen her frost over the ground. The child was crying in earnest now, and her cries only incensed the people in the alley with them.  
      
    “Wait, no,” Sigyn said, stepping back. “I was only--”  
      
    She was cut off as someone yelled and threw an apple at her. She dodged it, only to have more fruit and vegetables come flying at her. They splattered on her dress, the juices and seeds running down her bare arms and stinging her eyes.  
      
    Sigyn cried out, blindly reaching for a way out, only to realize she was suddenly surrounded by people. Terror choked her throat, but somehow she managed to cry out. People grabbed at her dress and hair, yanking her down to the ground, and then pain flared up from her stomach and chest and shoulders as people kicked at her.  
      
    _I am going to die,_ Sigyn realized with a strangled cry. _I am going to die. They will kill me._   
      
    Then, just as quickly as it began, everything fell silent. Sigyn curled up on the ground, trying to protect herself from what was surely about to come, then felt gentle but urgent hands on her shoulder.  
      
    “Sigyn,” a familiar voice said, and Sigyn blinked, trying to place it. “Sigyn, can you hear me?”  
      
    “Y-yes.”  
      
    “Can you stand?”  
      
    Sigyn tried to prop herself up on her elbow, but something was wrong. Her mind was fuzzy and pulsed with pain. She felt sick and was certain her breakfast would return at any second. “I do--I do not--where--”  
      
    “Her head has been hit,” another voice said, a female voice. “She’s bleeding. Fandral, find Eir and bring her here, quick.”  
      
    _My head?_ Sigyn wondered.   
      
    “Sif, you and Volstagg get my Mother and the Allfather. Hogun and I will stay here.”  
      
    “Wait...” Sigyn managed as she felt a soft fabric cover her. She managed to look around her surroundings, the juices leaving her eyes, and saw that the alley way was empty now. Guards stood at the entrance to it, spears at the ready. Sigyn looked to whoever was kneeling next to her and smiled slightly when she saw familiar green eyes.  
      
    “Sigyn,” Loki said, putting a hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into it. “Stay still and try not to get up. Eir will be here soon and she’ll heal you, then we can return you to Gladsheim.”  
      
    “I can--” Sigyn trailed off, raising a shaky hand to her forehead. She felt around dazedly before she found the wound, a long gash that was bleeding profusely and stinging from the acidic fruit juices that sank into it. “I can... heal myself.”  
      
    Before Loki could reply, Sigyn pushed her magic into the wound and focused on the burning it caused in her magic. Soon it was closed and the burning was gone, and she knew the task was done, but her head still felt wrong.  
      
    “Loki,” she said quietly. “Loki?”  
      
    “I’m here,” came the quiet reply, and she slowly realized she was still out in the open, and that things were far too quiet.  
      
    “Am I going to die?”  
      
    “No,” Loki said, taking her sticky hand in his. “You will not die.”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn said, resting her head back against the hard stones. “I am glad, then. I would hate to die and leave you behind. Just when we are getting along.”  
      
    Loki brushed a hand against her forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face. “Stay quiet now, Sigyn. Eir is here and she will help you.”  
      
    Something was still wrong, Sigyn thought. She’d healed the wound, so why wasn’t her head clearing up? “Loki,” she muttered as the darkness closed in on her, “I am scared.”  
      
    “I’m here,” was the last thing she heard before oblivion took her.


	14. Luminous

    There was a stale, foul taste in her mouth when Sigyn woke up. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Groggy, she opened her eyes and tried to see where she was.   
      
    Her chamber was dark, only one of the curtains parted in the middle to allow some sunlight in. Her stomach hurt, keeping her from sitting up, but Sigyn was able to glance around. She stopped when she saw the figure in the corner.   
      
    She must have gasped because the figure looked up, and suddenly she recognized him. “Loki,” she croaked. She laid back against her pillows, closing her eyes again. “What happened?”  
      
    “Several things,” Loki said. She heard him step over to her bedside, then pour some water into a cup. “First, you were ambushed at the festival. The crowd seemed to come under the impression you attacked a child and retaliated.”   
      
    Loki put a hand underneath her neck and lifted her up gently. Sigyn propped herself up on her elbows and drank the freezing water gratefully.   
      
    “And,” Loki said at length, “you were poisoned.”  
      
    She spit out the water. “W-what?” Sigyn choked, forgetting the pain in her stomach as she sat up.  
      
    Loki paused, setting the cup down and handing her a cloth to dry herself off with. “Perhaps I should have told you that in a better way,” he admitted. “It’s true. Someone, at some point during the festival, put poison into your drink. A large enough dose to kill you.”  
      
    Sigyn whimpered, pulling the blankets further up. “Why would... but...”  
      
    Loki stared at her, green eyes dark in the dim light. “There are plenty of reasons why someone would want you dead,” he said. “But let’s not focus on that right now. Eir managed to save you. You should rest for another few days, and then you’ll be allowed out again.”  
      
    Her mind whirred. Someone had tried to kill her. Who? Someone who did not want Jotunheim and Asgard to join together, that much was obvious. And if they had tried to kill her, then what of--  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard. “What of Helblindi?”   
      
    Loki gave her a long look. “He’s fine. He was not poisoned.”  
      
    Her shoulders slumped. “So then it was just me?”  
      
    “So it was,” Loki said. He was strangely quiet, too controlled. It made her uneasy. It was as if something lurked underneath that he was only barely keeping bound. Because of her?  
      
    She shook her head. Surely it wasn’t that.   
      
    “It seems people have caught on to your purpose for being here, even without the announcement,” Loki continued. “And now they wish to put an end to it.”  
      
    Sigyn fiddled with her thin blanket, biting her lip. Someone had poisoned her. And if Loki hadn’t found her in time, if she’d followed the little girl just a bit further...  
      
    She shivered. She would be dead now. Sigyn hugged her arms and laid back down against the pillows. “Do they know who tried to poison me?”  
      
    “No,” Loki said. “Clearly it was someone from the servant class. No one else would have had access to your drink.” He studied her carefully and she fidgeted under his scrutiny. “We’ll find them, Sigyn. And the people responsible for deciding to poison you.”  
      
    Sigyn put a hand to her chest, where the pendant had rested. “And the necklace?”  
      
    Loki frowned. “You’re worried about that?”  
      
    “It was a nice gift,” she answered quietly, unable to meet his gaze. “No one has given me gifts before. I did not want to lose it.”  
      
    The silence stretched on until Loki got up and went over to the box Dagny had set out to put her jewelry in. He opened it and dug around for a moment before pulling a familiar silver chain out. Her heart nearly stopped altogether at the sight of it.  
      
    “We found the girl,” Loki said, bringing it back over. “It’s yours again.” He stared at her. “Does it truly mean so much to you?”  
      
    “It does, Loki.”  
      
    She held her hand out and Loki paused before letting the chain slip from his fingers and into her palm. His fingertips brushed her skin lightly as his hand fell back to the mattress. Sigyn’s breath caught, and then she forced herself not to react past that.  
      
    “Then I’m happy you like it,” Loki said politely. He held himself stiffly, almost awkwardly, as if he wasn’t certain where to go in this situation.  
      
    Neither was Sigyn, if she were to be honest. Things had shifted slowly but surely between her and Loki. She’d known how to handle him when he was against her; now that they seemed to have reach some kind of understanding, she had no idea what was expected of her.  
      
    _How sad that I am more comfortable with people being cruel to me,_ Sigyn thought a second later. She had rarely known anything different.  
      
    “I do,” she said with a small nod. “Thank you, Loki.”  
      
    He nodded shortly and then stood, straightening his tunic. “I’ll tell Lady Eir you’ve awoken. She’ll come in soon to check you over.”  
      
    The thought of being alone again after everything filled her with terror. Sigyn sat up quickly as Loki made for the door. “Wait.”  
      
    He stopped, turning to look at her.   
      
    “I...” She swallowed and wondered how pathetic she must have looked, pleading with him. “I do not want to be alone.”  
      
    Loki blinked, then his hand fell from the doorknob to his side. “You wish for me to stay with you?”  
      
    Unable to find her voice, Sigyn nodded and smiled hopefully. Loki seemed lost for a moment, then turned away. He opened the door, and just as Sigyn thought he was going to ignore her request, she heard him muttering to someone just outside.  
      
    Once he closed it, Loki came back to sit on the edge of her bed. Another silence fell between them, awkward this time, and Sigyn had no idea how to diffuse it.   
      
    “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For saving me at the festival.”  
      
    Loki shrugged a shoulder. “I merely got to you first.”  
      
    She resisted the urge to sigh. “Accept my thanks, please.”  
      
    “You’re welcome,” he said with a small smirk. Sigyn smiled back, and his smirk widened slightly into a smile.   
      
    The awkwardness gone, they sat again in silence for a few more minutes until Sigyn carefully ventured, “Loki? When I am better... send the little girl to me, please. I want to meet her.”  
      
    Loki stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Why?”  
      
    Sigyn straightened out the silver chain in her palm. “Because I wish to speak with her.”  
      
    “And what will you say?”  
      
    Sigyn looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Do you think I must reprimand her?”  
      
    “She’s already been reprimanded,” Loki said. “I cannot guess as to what you intend, Sigyn.”  
      
    She sat back, trying out a smirk of her own. “Guess. You had me guess what you meant to teach your brother with those goats, so now you must guess what I mean to do with the little girl.”  
      
    Loki surprised her by laughing quietly. “You are...” He shook his head, and before she could ask him to finish, he looked at the wall and his expression became thoughtful. “You’re not the reprimanding type, I don’t think. You don’t stand for nonsense, but I don’t think you intend to be cruel to the girl.”  
      
    She stayed silent, letting him think it out.  
      
    “I think you’re curious,” he said at length. “You’re curious as to why she took your necklace and refused to give it back. Perhaps if you hadn’t been attacked, you could have eventually talked her into giving it back. But,” he said with a small shrug, “we’ll never know now.”  
      
    Sigyn smiled slightly and nodded. “I only wish to talk to her.”  
      
    “So I was correct?” Loki asked, crossing his arms and looking almost pleased with himself.   
      
    “You were.”  
      
    “Do I get a prize?” His expression shifted into something more intense, and Sigyn found herself suddenly feeling uncertain again.   
      
    “It depends on what sort of prize you ask for,” she answered carefully.  
      
    Loki leaned forward, his voice becoming quiet. “The truth,” he said. “Which I’ve been waiting for for quite some time.”  
      
    Heart beating wildly in her chest, Sigyn gripped her blanket tightly. “I... I do not know what you mean.”  
      
    He paused, then lifted a hand and gently brushed some hair out of her face. His fingertips traced a line from the edge of her forehead into her hair, and Sigyn’s eyes fluttered shut as a shiver overtook her. Then she remembered and her gaze snapped up to him in horror.  
      
    The door opened then and Dagny came rushing in. “My lady!” She ran over to the bedside and threw her arms around Sigyn’s shoulders, shocking her.  
      
    “Oh!”  
      
    “Careful, girl,” Eir said as she stepped into the room, frowning in disapproval. “She’s only just woken up and you’re trying to knock her unconscious again?”  
      
    Dagny pulled away, blushing deeply. She sank into a curtsey for Loki and Sigyn. “Please forgive me.”  
      
    “There is nothing to forgive,” Sigyn said gently, touched that Dagny was so worried about her. Loki simply stood up and walked away from her, and Sigyn’s gaze followed him as he went to lean on a wall. She swallowed hard.   
      
    He knew the truth. Loki knew she was capable of casting magic.  
      
    What would he do to her now?  
      
    Sigyn did not have a chance to ask him. As soon as Eir was finished with her examination, she shooed Loki and Dagny out of the room to give her some peace and quiet. Sigyn knew the healer meant well, and in Eir’s position she would have done exactly the same.  
      
    But it did nothing for her anxiety about what Loki would do. Would he tell the Allfather? Dagny and Eir hadn’t made any mention of it. Sigyn doubted Dagny would have hugged her as she had if she knew her lady were capable of magic. Loki was capable of magic himself, it was true, but that didn’t mean he accepted it in everyone else. In her.   
      
    Those thoughts kept her tossing and turning in her bed until finally, Sigyn got up and began pacing her room. She considered the lack of guards a good thing. It meant Loki hadn’t told anyone yet and they weren’t coming to apprehend her.   
      
    When would he, then? Would he at all? Would their newfound friendship make him reconsider what to do?  
      
    _Please,_ Sigyn thought. _Please let him keep my secret. Please let him think kindly of me after this. Please do not let me lose my friend._     

* * *

    It was a few days later when Sigyn finally received another visitor. Eir had kept most everyone save herself and Dagny from visiting, and the silence from Loki was close to driving her to madness. When Dagny opened the door and said she had company, Sigyn had nearly screamed for joy.  
      
    That joy had quickly ended when she saw that it was not Loki who had come to visit her, but Theoric.  
      
    He stood awkwardly in the entryway for a few moments before finally stepping in. Dagny followed behind him, choosing a place to stand behind Sigyn, her head bowed.   
      
    “Theoric,” Sigyn said once she’d recovered from her disappointment. “I did not expect to see you.”  
      
    “I’m certain,” Theoric said. “This is rather unusual, my visiting a lady’s chambers.” He blushed suddenly. “I mean, of course it is, I don’t make a habit of visiting lady’s chambers, officially or unofficially--” Theoric stopped, realizing he was making things worse.  
      
    Sigyn bit on her tongue to keep from laughing and heard Dagny cough quietly behind her, likely trying to do just the same. “It is fine. I know what you meant. So then... what brings you here today?”  
      
    Theoric cleared his throat, his blush slowly fading. “I am sorry I wasn’t there for you at the festival. When I heard what happened, I--worried about how you would fare afterwards. But I’m heartened to see that you’re recovering quickly.”  
      
    Sigyn inclined her head and smiled, waiting for him to get to the point.   
      
    “I’ve gone to the Queen and Allfather,” Theoric said. Sigyn froze. Did he know her secret as well? “I suggested that it may be a good idea for you to have a guard, now that someone has made an attempt on your life. Your ladies kept you safe from physical attacks, but now it’s clear you need added protection, not only outside of Gladsheim but inside as well.”  
      
    Sigyn’s brow creased in confusion. “Well, I suppose so, yes.”  
      
    “And,” Theoric hurried on, “they approved of my request. So, starting today, I am to be the head of your guard.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked, then kept herself from reeling back. “Oh,” she said flatly, then recomposed herself. “Oh, Theoric, you must not feel as if you have to do this,” she said. “Truly, it is a kind and generous offer, but--”  
      
    “Please,” Theoric said, stepping up to her and getting down on one knee. “I wish to be at your service, my lady. I would not have what happened to you at the festival happen again.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed, resisting the urge to look at Dagny for guidance. If the Allfather and Queen had approved it, what choice did she have? And truthfully, she would feel a little safer with a guard... perhaps. If it were just Theoric, she would. But anyone else set her on edge. She was too familiar with what Aesir Einherjar could do to those they viewed as the enemy. Especially women.  
      
    But Theoric would not allow that to happen, she hoped.  
      
    She took a hesitant breath before nodding. “Then I accept your offer, Theoric, and I thank you kindly. This means much to me, it truly does. I am certain with you at my side, no harm will ever come to me again.”  
      
    Theoric positively beamed as he rose to stand. “Thank you, my lady.”  
      
    “You do not have to thank me for anything,” she said, embarrassed.   
      
    “But I shall anyway,” Theoric said. “I’ll be outside if you have need of me.” He bowed to her before seeing himself out, casting one last look at her over his shoulder.  
      
    Sigyn stood there for a second, then turned to look at Dagny. “Well. What is for the midday?”    

* * *

    “My lady?”  
      
    Sigyn looked up from her book to see Dagny poking her head into her chamber. “You’ve some visitors.”   
      
    She made certain she was dressed appropriately for visitors and stood, nodding to Dagny to let them in. Loki stepped in and her heart stopped, making her take a quick breath. Then she stilled her reaction and dropped into a curtsey. When she rose, Loki was joined by a familiar blonde headed girl, and it took Sigyn a second to place her.  
      
    Of course, she thought, the girl from the festival. She looked nervous, sticking close to Dagny’s skirts, and Sigyn smiled reassuringly.  
      
    “As you asked for, my lady,” Loki said. “The child who took your necklace.”  
      
    Theoric stood at the doorway, but his shoulders were relaxed. He didn’t expect any trouble from this, it seemed, but the looks he kept giving Loki made Sigyn wonder what his opinion of his Prince was.   
      
    She pushed that aside to think on later and sat back down. “Please, sit.”  
      
    The child looked at Dagny, who nodded at her, and reluctantly came to sit across from Sigyn. She would be a pretty lady one day, when she grew up; her eyes were a startling blue, her hair a fine golden colour with wonderful curls. She would be the very idea of an Aesir beauty.  
      
    Sigyn wondered, briefly, what should would look like with pale skin and blonde curls and eyes the colour of the sky. Then, ashamed of even thinking of it, she focused on the matter at hand.  
      
    “Hello,” she said to the girl. “I am Sigyn of Jotunheim. Who are you?”  
      
    “Dalla,” the girl replied quietly, keeping her gaze averted to the floor.  
      
    It took Sigyn a brief pause to translate that in her mind, and when she did, her smile broadened. The girl’s very name meant luminous and shining. Her parents had named her well, it seemed.  
      
    “It is very good to meet you properly, Lady Dalla.” Sigyn motioned for Dagny to pour her a cup of water, which she did. Dalla eyed the servant with interest, then took the cup but did not drink from it. “I am sorry if what happened at the festival scared you. I did not mean to frighten you. I only wanted my necklace back.”  
      
    Dalla didn’t respond to that, so Sigyn continued.  
      
    “Why did you take it, my Lady?”  
      
    Dalla stared down at her cup intensely. Loki stepped up beside her chair and leaned down. “Answer the Princess, my Lady,” he said gently. Sigyn felt a small jolt at being called a Princess, but did not let it register on her face.   
      
    “It was pretty,” Dalla said sullenly. “I wanted it.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded. “Were you going to keep it?”  
      
    As Dalla fidgeted, Sigyn did a quick study of her. Her dress, though obviously they best one she owned, was stretched taut across her shoulders and dug into her neck. There had obviously been some trim added to the hem once she’d outgrown it, but it was still slightly too short. Her shoes were dingy and frayed at the heels, and Sigyn could see evidence of someone stitching them back up with thin thread in order to make them last.  
      
    The girl was clean, but her clothes told a different story. A story Sigyn knew all too well, having once experienced it herself. How often had she stitched together her clothes to make them last just a few more weeks, a few more months, until she could find some replacement? How often had her mother mended and scraped together what she could for her only daughter, while she herself often went about in rags?  
      
    Her heart ached for Dalla. It was not the child’s fault the Aesir attacked her. Everyone did what they could to survive, even children. Even the young caught on to how their families struggled and found ways to ease that pain.  
      
    “I imagine if you sold it, you would have enough money to buy whatever you liked,” Sigyn continued on lightly. “But, my Lady, it is wrong to take other people’s possessions without their permission. Yes?”  
      
    Dalla nodded, still not looking at her.  
      
    Loki glanced at her, watching her quietly. Sigyn met his gaze before looking away and taking a tentative sip of her water. It was not poisoned, but the fear still lingered. Sigyn wondered if it always would.  
      
    “Listen,” Sigyn said after a pause, leaning in towards Dalla and smiling conspiratorally. “I will take you to the market place, yes? And there you can find any necklace you like, and I will buy it for you. It will be yours to keep. And your family--I will send them food from Gladsheim’s own kitchens. Do you like buttered bread, Lady Dalla?”  
      
    Dalla’s eyes lit up cautiously as she finally looked up at Sigyn. Silently she nodded.  
      
    Sigyn turned to Dagny. “Some bread for our guest, Dagny, and butter. A fresh, hot loaf!”  
      
    Dagny nodded and left. Theoric was smiling at her, and Loki--he looked as closed off as he always did. But Sigyn swore there was a hint of pleasure in his eyes as he stared at her, and Sigyn found that she liked it quite a bit.   
      
    If he still looked at her that way after he knew the truth, then perhaps things would not be so bad between them after all.   
      
    “You will get this same bread to take home with you,” Sigyn said. “You may tell your family it came from the Princess of Asgard. And then tomorrow, when you are ready, you may come and join me in the marketplace and we will find you a pretty necklace of your own. Then I must meet your family, I am certain they are lovely. Yes?”  
      
    “Yes,” Dalla said, slowly smiling.   
      
    Sigyn smiled back. “Wonderful,” she said. “Lady Dalla, I think you and I shall be friends.”  
      
    The rest of their meeting passed pleasantly, with Dalla finally opening up to her little by little. Sigyn sent a basket full of bread and butter home with her, along with another promise to buy her a necklace. Then it was only her, Loki and Dagny in her chambers, and Sigyn realized with a slow sinking feeling that this was the moment she had been dreading.  
      
    Loki met her gaze as he said to Dagny, “Leave us for a moment.”  
      
    Dagny hesitated, then curtseyed and left. The door closed behind her and Sigyn swallowed hard.   
      
    “They will talk about that, you know,” she said, trying for a joke, her smile shaky.  
      
    Loki shrugged. “Dagny will not, and it’s only Theoric behind that door. He won’t say a word, either.” He paused and smirked. “Or maybe he will, out of his dislike for me. But that’s not what I’m here about.” He sat down across from her. “The truth, my Lady.”  
      
    Was he truly going to make her say it? Sigyn closed her eyes briefly, wishing for strength. Then she said, “It is true, Prince Loki: I have magic.”


	15. Elska

    “Show me.”  
      
    Sigyn stared at Loki. She tried to think of what would be enough to convince him, then her eyes came upon the knife on the table they’d used to cut the bread. She picked it up and without hesitation cut it across her palm.   
      
    Her bright blue blood spilled onto the floor, freezing in place against the gold metal. She set the knife down, then held her palm out for Loki to see. His expression was unreadable while his green eyes were on her cut. Sigyn then focused her magic on the cut, which burned against her magic. It slowly closed until there was no trace of a wound left.  
      
    Loki reached out and ran his fingers over her palm before she could pull away. Sigyn watched, her breath quickening. “Impressive,” he said at length. “You’ve a talent for healing.”  
      
    Sigyn pulled her hand away a second later, letting it rest in her lap. “Yes.”  
      
    “And what else?”  
      
    “Whatever else magic allows you to do.”  
      
    Loki leaned back in his chair, eyeing her. Sigyn forced herself to return his gaze. She searched his face, looking for any hint of what he intended to do with her.   
      
    “Why did you not tell anyone?” Loki finally asked.  
      
    “Why do you think?” Sigyn said. “Magic is hated in Asgard. I already have so much against me, Loki, I could not add onto it. The Aesir may one day look past my being Jotun; they would not look past me being a witch as well.”  
      
    “It is not as feared as you think,” Loki said quietly.   
      
    “Perhaps not Aesir magic,” Sigyn retorted. “But Jotun magic is another matter.”  
      
    “Magic is magic,” Loki said. “Yours is not so different from ours.”  
      
    “And will they see it that way?”  
      
    Loki had no response, so Sigyn knew she was right. It would never be accepted.   
      
    “You--” Sigyn sighed, standing and beginning to pace anxiously. “You, Loki, you can practice magic as you please. No one will think twice of it because you are their Prince and future King. But I do not have that luxury. I must always hide myself, and worry, and look over my shoulder and wonder if one day someone will find out.”  
      
    A spark of anger flashed in Loki’s eyes and his entire body tensed. “Do not think that because I am Asgard’s Prince I do not know what it is to be seen as strange for practicing magic,” he said slowly, evenly. It chilled Sigyn more than it would have if he’d yelled. “I may be the Prince, but I am only the second born, the lesser son. Because I have chosen magic, I am not as respected as Thor was-- _is_ \--and they do not know how to accept a man who practices such a womanly art.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed hard. “But you are not in fear of your life because of it,” she said. “I am.”  
      
    Loki stood, coming over to stand by her. Sigyn watched him, studying the intensity on his face, and with a shock realized she no longer feared him. Before she could wonder when that had happened, Loki stopped inches from her, and held her gaze.  
      
    “No harm will come to you here, Sigyn,” he said. “We will find the one who poisoned you and execute them. We will seek out any who wish you harm and deal with them accordingly. And those who want to harm you for your magic will face similar justice.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. Executed? Of course in a way, vaguely, she’d known what the punishment would be for an attempted murder of a royal. But she hadn’t connected it to herself. Someone was going to die because of her.  
      
    Instead of focusing on that, Sigyn pulled away from Loki and went over to the window. She gazed out of it at Asgard for a long moment before quietly asking, “Why did you not tell me you knew?”  
      
    She heard Loki shift behind her. “I wanted you to tell me yourself.”  
      
    She closed her eyes. “Have I failed, then? Have I broken your trust in me?”  
      
    “No,” Loki said quietly. “I see now why you said nothing of it. Perhaps in your place, I would have done the same.”  
      
    Something in her broke and Sigyn found herself tearing up. She quickly reined in her emotions so that Loki wouldn’t see it. “And--and what will you do now?”  
      
    Loki was silent for a long, drawn out moment. “I won’t tell anyone,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t fear that I will give away your secret, Sigyn.”  
      
    She felt her shoulders droop in relief and put a hand to her forehead. “Thank you, my Prince. Thank you.”  
      
    Loki came to stand behind her by the window, causing Sigyn to tense up yet again but for a different reason. She was acutely aware of his presence behind her. She could feel the warmth coming off of his body, hear his quiet breathing and feel it tickle her bare shoulder. Sigyn fought to keep her own breathing and wildly racing heartbeat even.  
      
    “Loki,” Sigyn said suddenly, her voice cracking. “I--I do not think you are lesser than anyone here. Especially not your brother.”  
      
    There was a tense silence before she felt his warm skin on her shoulder. “Thank you, Sigyn.”  
      
    Then she felt something at the back of her head, some kind of pressure, but it was so faint that Sigyn wasn’t sure it was even real. All she felt was Loki leaning in, something brushing against her hair, and then Loki pulling away and stepping back from her.  
      
    “I should go,” Loki said. “You’re right, people will start to wonder if I’m in here any longer. I’ll see you at the feast, my lady.” He bowed formally, then turned and left.  
      
    Sigyn stared after him, heart still beating hard and fast. Then she ran a hand over her hair, wondering.  
    

* * *

     
    “My lady. My lady, wake up.”  
      
    Sigyn groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over her head. There was a moment of blissful darkness and silence, then suddenly the blankets were torn away from her. Sigyn gasped and sat up, her long hair momentarily blocking her room from view.  
      
    Pushing it back and blinking blearily at Dagny, she glanced at the windows to see where the sun was in the sky. “Dagny,” she whined, “is it not even morning yet. What has happened?”  
      
    “You’re being moved,” Dagny replied, folding up the blanket and setting it on the end of the mattress. “Come on, we have to get you dressed and start gathering your things.”  
      
    Sigyn yawned. “Moved where?”  
      
    “To a new room, of course!” Dagny shook her head as if it should be obvious. She went over to Sigyn’s wardrobe and flung it open, looking over each of her dresses critically. “You’re a Princess now, or you will be soon enough. Does this look like an acceptable place for a Princess to sleep?”  
      
    Sigyn looked around her room slowly. She’d gotten used to it. Moreover, she’d grown to like it. It was small, yes, but she had never needed much room. It had made her feel safe.   
      
    “Will I not be sharing Loki’s chambers once we are married?” Sigyn asked, laying back down. “Why can it not wait until then?”  
      
    “Yes, of course you will,” Dagny said. “But you need a space of your own as well, to meet with your ladies in waiting and to give birth in and...”  
      
    Sigyn let Dagny ramble on, burying her face back into her pillow. Then something soft and fluffy hit her side and she gave a small shriek. “Dagny!”  
      
    “I told you to get up,” Dagny said, though not in irritation. She was smiling as she set down the pillow. “I mean no disrespect, my lady, but I will drag you out myself if need be.”  
      
    Sigyn groaned again and sat up, then stood. “Fine, yes, I am awake. Let us get this over and done with.”  
      
    It took very few hours to get all of Sigyn’s things moved into her new chambers. Sigyn was left to get herself acquainted with the chambers while Dagny and a few other servants settled things in. There were five rooms in total, which made Sigyn bite back a sigh and a complaint that she didn’t need that much space.  
      
    The first room--the entrance chamber--was a small sitting room where Sigyn would entertain guests of lesser importance, or where she would sit and wait to be called down to dinner or other events after dressing. The room after that was the sitting chamber, where she would sit with other nobles and royals.   
      
    Beyond that was her bedroom, easily double the size of her last one. The bed was bigger and much softer, draped with furs and many pillows. The furs would have to go--Sigyn had no need to be kept warm--but the pillows would stay.   
      
    The next room following her bedroom was the wardrobe. It was the size of her old bedroom, giving Dagny and any other maids plenty of room to dress her and make whatever adjustments they needed. A door at the back of the wall led into her own bathroom, complete with a large round indentation in the middle of the floor where the water would be placed.   
      
    Sigyn came to stand back out in the sitting room, looking at the large floor to ceiling windows that could be opened out onto a balcony. When the maids finally finished with the moving in, Dagny came up to her with a large smile.  
      
    “What do you think?”  
      
    “It is very...” Sigyn searched for the right word, “large.”  
      
    Dagny seemed disappointed by that reaction, but quickly recovered. “Oh, and,” she said, pitching her voice lower, “Prince Loki’s chambers are directly across from yours.”  
      
    Sigyn hoped she didn’t look too interested or eager about that. “Very well.”   
      
    Her mind went back to the day before, when he’d come to stand behind her and... what? She still didn’t know. Absently she ran a hand over her hair again. Perhaps it’d been all in her imagination. Or maybe it had simply been his breathing shifting her hair.   
      
    Sigyn let her hand fall to her side. It was no use thinking about it. Especially when she was not coming up with any real answers.  
      
    “Dagny,” she said suddenly, “do you... have someone? Of your own?”  
      
    Dagny fell silent, her expression surprised before turning thoughtful. “I do,” she said shyly, nodding.   
      
    Sigyn smiled and sat down. “What is his name? Or her?”  
      
    The servant blushed deeply. “Will it stay a secret between us, my lady?”  
      
    “Of course.”  
      
    Dagny glanced around to make certain they were alone, then came to sit next to Sigyn. Her voice was quiet when she spoke up. “Her name is Nál. She is a servant here, like myself. She works in the kitchens. She’s...” Dagny trailed off, sighing a little. “She’s wonderful, my lady.”  
      
    Sigyn studied Dagny’s expression closely. “How did you know you loved her?”  
      
    “I--” Dagny considered the question. “That’s a hard question to answer. One day I just knew. The way her laughter seemed to light up a room, or how I began to love the sparkle in her dark brown eyes that she reserved just for me. Or the dimples on her cheeks. Any number of things. I just _knew_.”   
      
    Sigyn leaned back on the couch, trying not to frown. That wasn’t much help at all.   
      
    Dagny peered at her. “Why do you ask, my lady?”  
      
    She shook her head. “No reason. I was only curious. Let us get ready for breakfast, yes?”  
      
    When she left her chambers, Sigyn nearly ran into Loki who was doing the same. Her breath caught again and Loki rose an eyebrow as he readjusted the sleeves of his green tunic.  
      
    “My lady,” he said with an inclination of his head.  
      
    “My Prince,” Sigyn managed, dropping into a curtsey. “Good morning.”  
      
    “And to you.” He glanced back at Dagny and Theoric, who were standing behind her. Then he offered her his elbow. “Shall I walk you to the feasting hall?”  
      
    Sigyn smiled and took his elbow. “Yes, please.” She nodded to Dagny and Theoric, a signal for them to fall back and give them both some privacy. Theoric looked none too happy about it, but Sigyn disregarded it as she turned her attention back to Loki. “I have moved into my new chambers,” she said.  
      
    “So I see,” Loki said. “How do you like them?”  
      
    “They are nice,” Sigyn said automatically. It would be the expected response for her for most of the day, she knew.  
      
    Loki gave her a wry, sidelong glance. “And the truth?”  
      
    “They are a little big,” she admitted. “But I will grow used to them, I am sure.”  
      
    They walked on in silence for a moment. Sigyn found herself glancing at Loki every now and then. What she was looking for, she didn’t know. Some kind of clue, perhaps? That what she’d felt yesterday had been something more than just a result of her imagination?  
      
    _Would I want it to be?_ Sigyn wondered. _Would I want him to have done something?_ She thought back to what she’d ask Dagny. _How would I know if I wanted that? If I wanted_ him _?_  
      
    “Sigyn,” Loki said suddenly, his voice amused. “If I have something on my face, I’ll thank you to tell me now.”  
      
    “No,” Sigyn said. “No, it is not that. I am sorry. It is just... you... um...”  
      
    Loki stared at her expectantly, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively, the corners of his lips turned up in amusement. In the early morning light, his green eyes were bright, almost grey, and Sigyn could almost see herself in them.  
      
    _How does he see me?_ Sigyn wondered. _Does he see me as desirable?_  
      
    “Sigyn?”  
      
    “You have very nice eyes,” Sigyn blurted out, then clamped a hand to her mouth. Humiliated, she cast her gaze to the floor and kept her mouth firmly shut with her palm.   
      
    _What am I saying?!_  
      
    She wanted for Loki to laugh at her, to deride her, or to give any other response than the one he gave. “I... thank you.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded mutely and thanked the Nine for taking mercy on her when they arrived at the doors to the feasting room a second later. She let her hand fall, biting her bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, and hoped Loki would not do anything to draw out the tension.  
      
    “Sigyn.”  
      
    She stopped in her steps, her hand falling away from Loki’s elbow. After a split second of hesitation Sigyn reluctantly turned around to face the Prince.   
      
    Loki was staring at her with the oddest expression, part thoughtful and part curious. Then he said, “You look beautiful this morning.”  
      
    Sigyn stilled, staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands brushed against the skirt of her purple dress, the silver and gold embroidery rough against her skin.   
      
    “Thank you, Loki.”  
      
    He bowed politely and then left for his usual seat, leaving Sigyn standing alone. She turned to watch him go, eyes still wide, when Dagny and Theoric came to join her.  
      
    “My lady? Is everything alright?” Dagny asked, concerned.  
      
    “I--yes. I am fine, Dagny. Let us go and sit.”   
      
    Sigyn gave a pleasant good morning to Frigga, then sat down and tried to focus on her breakfast. No matter how hard she tried, though, her gaze kept sliding back to Loki. More often than not, he caught her and gave her a small, short lived smile. It always happened so fast, no one else seemed to catch it.  
      
    No one but her.  
      
    She thought of him in the library, his fingertips tracing along a line of text, his voice softly speaking the runes he read there. She thought of him at the festival, the sun shining down on him in his green and black robes. How her heart had raced when she’d danced with him, and how gentle his touch had been when she’d woken up after the attack.  
      
    She thought of how he’d leaned in behind her, hand on her bare shoulder, and kissed her hair, so softly that she hadn’t even known it.  
      
    _I just_ knew, Dagny had said. _I just knew._  
      
    Sigyn put a hand to her pendant, tears forming in her eyes. _Oh,_ she thought. _Oh, you silly girl._


	16. One for Sorrow

_One's for sorrow, two's for joy_  
 _If this weapon you'd deploy, oh my darling daughter_  
\--Seanan McGuire, "How Much Salt."

* * *

   If Sigyn had thought that things would change between her and Loki now that she’d realized her feelings, she’d been wrong. It’d been a silly thought, of course; things could only change if he knew how she felt for him. So far, Sigyn intended to keep it to herself.  
      
    For how long, she didn’t know. She didn’t have much experience with this sort of thing. The closest she’d ever come to loving someone romantically had been Angrboda, and that had been based more on lust than anything else. In the end, they had been too different to love each other, and so Sigyn had never admitted anything of the sort. There had been nothing to admit.  
      
    But now things were different. Now she had to figure out how and when to tell Loki.  
      
    Or if she even should.  
      
    They were going to be married, it was true. Sigyn had come to realize that didn’t necessarily mean love would follow. She didn’t know if Loki would ever come to love her as she did him.  
      
    All those thoughts kept her up at night and nagged her during the day. She had trouble focusing on her duties, which Frigga had begun to double now that the news was out that she was the Princess to be. She had to learn more dances, more embroidery, more of the Aesir tongue, and most of all, how to deal with politics.  
      
    Her constantly frazzled state did nothing to help with this.  
      
    “Sigyn,” Frigga sighed when Sigyn stumbled over her dancing partner’s foot yet again, “are you quite alright?”  
      
    “I am,” Sigyn said. “I am only a little tired. It has been a long day.”  
      
    Frigga nodded slowly. “Then let’s stop for now. We’ll have a rest and refresh ourselves, then continue with your lessons.”  
      
    Sigyn inclined her head, hoping she didn’t look overly grateful for the break. She sat down in relief, flexing her toes in her slippers to work out some of the pain. Servants came in and left some water and apples for her, and Sigyn began snacking.  
      
    Frigga sat with her but did not join in the food. Instead she said, “Sigyn, the Allfather and I have spoken at length about you over the past several weeks.”  
      
    Sigyn paused. That never boded well for her. “Yes?”  
      
    “I know I said you would be married to Loki in the beginning of autumn, but given what happened at the festival and... other pressing events, we thought it best to move your wedding up.” Frigga looked away, clasping her hands in her lap. She seemed nervous, and maybe a little tired. “It will now take place in a fortnight, during the last summer festival.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked. Then she took a long sip of water to gather her thoughts. She wondered what the other pressing events might be, to cause such a drastic action. Then she nodded. “Very well.”  
      
    Frigga stared at her for a long moment, her gaze calculating. “You’ve grown so much during your time here,” she said suddenly. Her tone was strange; quiet, almost wistful. “It seems so difficult to imagine that we’d end up as lucky as we have been, to have you for a Princess.” She paused. “And Queen.”  
      
    Sigyn looked down at her own clasped hands, realizing she’d been mimicking Frigga in that action for a long time by now. She didn’t move to unclasp them. “Thank you for having so much faith in me.”   
      
    “Not just faith,” Frigga said. “Love as well. I love you as I would my own daughter.”  
      
    Sigyn wasn’t certain how to respond to that. Frigga had been so kind to her, it was true, but she didn’t know if she wanted the Queen as a surrogate mother or not. Her memory of her own mother was still too clear to allow for such a thing, Sigyn thought.   
      
    But she couldn’t deny that she had come to care for Frigga greatly over the course of their time together. Enough so that Sigyn didn’t feel so awkward when she thought of Frigga as her mother-by-law. It felt natural to think of her as part of a family.  
      
    Sigyn paused. Did she have a family now? She had Dagny, and would have Loki, and Frigga...  
      
    Perhaps it was the scant beginnings of a family, a few parts and pieces that still needed something to connect them together into a whole. But it was a start. Sigyn found herself smiling a little, happiness blooming through her.  
      
    They returned to her lessons and, by the end of the day, Sigyn limped back to her chambers to be dressed for the evening meal.   
      
    “Tomorrow you’ll begin looking at fabrics for your wedding gown,” Dagny said as she helped Sigyn into her evening dress. “No offense, my lady, but I wish they hadn’t moved it up. You’re going to be so busy until it’s over, you’ll likely sleep for weeks afterward.”  
      
    Sigyn paused, then smirked a little and said, “Is it not the point of your Asgardian ‘honeymoon’ to not sleep much?”  
      
    Dagny’s mouth fell open, then she began laughing uproariously. “There are rumours about how good the Prince is in bed,” she said, once she’d stopped laughing. “Both of the Princes, in fact.”  
      
    Sigyn thought about that a second. She didn’t like to imagine Thor in bed. All she could picture was a raging monster who left more bruises than anything else. But Loki, on the other hand...  
      
    She cleared her throat and stopped her mind from wandering. “I do not mind being busy,” she said. “I only hope I do not make any mistakes.”  
      
    “You won’t,” Dagny said, putting the last finishing touches on her gown. “What necklace do you want to wear?”  
      
    “The pendant.”  
      
    Dagny rose an eyebrow. “Again?”  
      
    Sigyn nodded and Dagny shrugged, getting it and slipping it on. Perhaps it didn’t go with her dress; Sigyn didn’t care. She wanted to wear it, and so she would.  
      
    As she left her chambers, Sigyn was disappointed to see Loki wasn’t standing there. She’d been hoping he would. Instead, Theoric came to attention and Dagny took up her other side, so Sigyn was left with their amiable company on her journey to the feasting hall.  
      
    When she saw Helblindi round a corner and begin traveling down the corridor to the hall, Sigyn debated about falling back or coming up with an excuse to go back to her chambers for a moment. But then Helblindi saw her, and she knew running wouldn’t do her much good, so she simply inclined her head politely as he caught up to her.  
      
    “Helblindi.”  
      
    He gave her a long once over, then said, “I hear you are to be the Prince’s broodmare.”  
      
    Theoric’s hand went to his sword. “You will watch your tongue around the Lady Sigyn.”  
      
    “Ah,” Helblindi said, “Lady Sigyn now, is it?”  
      
    She tilted her chin up and kept her gaze ahead. “As I am to be married, yes, I am now a Lady.”  
      
    “How proud you must be.”  
      
    She did not respond to that. Sigyn glanced at Theoric out of the corner of her eye, hoping he would stay his hand. All they had to do was last a few more minutes until they got to the feasting hall, and then she wouldn’t have to listen to Helblindi’s taunts any longer.  
      
    Theoric was too busy glaring at Helblindi to notice her look. Biting back a sigh, Sigyn refocused her gaze on the path in front of her.  
      
    “Remember well where you came from and what you are,” Helblindi said as they neared the hall doors. “They may try to cloak you with pretty dresses and allow you to bed their beloved Prince, but that does not change the fact that you are a tool in their games. And that you are a bearer of ill luck.”  
      
    _No,_ Sigyn thought, _I am a bearer of victory. What is this if not a victory for Jotunheim, caused by my hand?_  
      
    “That’s enough,” Theoric said firmly, stepping between her and Helblindi. “Step away from the Princess to be, Jotun.”  
      
    Helblindi looked amused. “You have a guard dog now, Lady Sigyn?”  
      
    “Enough,” Sigyn said, turning to face Helblindi at last. “Theoric, do not force him away. Let us simply go and leave him here to wallow in his own pettiness.”  
      
    “Strange words from you,” Helblindi said in Jotun so that Theoric would not understand him. “Your title does not afford you protection as well as you seem to believe, Princess.”  
      
    A chill ran down her spine, but she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. She only knew how defenseless she truly was. Her poisoned water had been proof enough of that.   
      
    No matter what, she was still a Jotun in Asgard. Titles would do nothing to protect her.  
      
    But someone else will, a small voice said inside her. Sigyn’s attention was immediately drawn to where Loki sat each night at the evening meal. He was there already, and her heart lifted at seeing him.  
      
    Perhaps she was defenseless, in some ways. If anyone ever took up a sword against her, however, Sigyn knew that Loki would protect her.   
      
    She was unable to sit still for very long during dinner, her entire body aware of Loki. Finally when she could take no more, Sigyn stood and motioned for Theoric to follow her out onto the balcony, away from the crowd and Loki. She sighed when she was out in the fresh air, though it was humid and a little uncomfortable.  
      
    “Is something wrong, my lady?”  
      
    “Mmm?” Distractedly, she turned to look at Theoric. “Oh, no. I am fine.”  
      
    “Are you certain?” He persisted. “You’re not upset over what that Jotun said, I hope?”  
      
    She paused. “Why do you call him that?”  
      
    “What?”  
      
    Sigyn turned to face Theoric. “The Jotun. It is very... detached. Distancing.”  
      
    Theoric shifted uncomfortably. “Because that is what he is. He was treating you horridly, my lady, and I would not call anyone who did as he did a man.”  
      
    “I am a Jotun as well,” she said.   
      
    “But you are not so ill mannered.”  
      
    “Ill mannered? That was Helblindi being _honest_ ,” Sigyn said. “Or what goes for honesty in Jotunheim. Yes, here it would be considered an insult, but he was not saying anything that was a lie, now was he?”  
      
    “My lady--”  
      
    “Would you call me that if I acted as he did?” Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest, fury suddenly rising up in her. “Though I would be saying nothing but the truth, would you treat me as if I were a beast and curl your lip at my presence?”  
      
    Theoric looked stricken. “Sigyn--”  
      
    “You do not know him. Not as I do. Yes, he has always been blunt with me,” Sigyn shook her head. “But he adores his younger brother, Byleistr. He worships his father. He cares for his mother. He would have been dedicated to his people if he had become King of Jotunheim.”   
      
    She held Theoric’s gaze for a long moment. “Do not treat him so poorly simply because of me,” she said at length. “Where I am not concerned, Helblindi can be a good person.”  
      
    Theoric fell silent, and when he didn’t respond, Sigyn turned her back on him. “You think me so much better than the rest, yes?” Her voice was quiet, almost lost to the wind. “You think I am not so monstrous as them. When truly, they are not so monstrous as you have been led to believe.”  
      
    Silence fell between them again, and Sigyn was content with that. If Theoric was offended, he would simply have to work it out on his own.   
      
    She heard footsteps come up beside her and when she turned to look, she saw Theoric on one knee, his sword arm over his heart, his head bowed.  
      
    “I beg your forgiveness, my Princess,” he said, his tone sincerely remorseful. “You’re right. I still have much to learn about you and your people, and I should not have used Helblindi’s heritage against him as I did.”  
      
    “Oh, get up,” Sigyn said, trying not to laugh. “I accept your apology. Please, stand, this is silly.”  
      
    Theoric glanced up at her, then grinned when he saw she was smiling. They stood in companionable silence until Sigyn glanced back at the feasting hall, seeing Loki’s back as he leaned in to hear something another man was telling him.  
      
    “How do you confess love to someone?”   
      
    “Er, I beg pardon?”  
      
    Sigyn turned away, looking out at the ocean again. “How would you confess your love for someone, Theoric?”  
      
    When he didn’t immediately answer, Sigyn looked at him. She stopped at the strange expression on his face. He was frowning slightly, but the look in his blue eyes... it suddenly reminded her of how Loki sometimes stared at her these days. It so unnerved her that she turned away again as casually as she could, unable to look at him much longer.  
      
    “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I’ve never been in a position where I had to.”  
      
    “No?” Her tone was slightly teasing, and she was glad it hid the trembling she felt. “No lucky maidens or warriors for you?”  
      
    He blushed. “Not as it were, no.”  
      
    “Perhaps one day, then.”  
      
    “Yes,” Theoric said. “Perhaps one day.” He stared at her a beat longer, then cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood. “Norns know my mother would appreciate it if I married a nice girl and gave her some grandchildren.”  
      
    Sigyn laughed, but it was shortlived as a shriek rang out from the feasting hall. It was followed by several more, as well as shouted commands from some of the guards that Sigyn couldn’t make out. She spun on her heel, eyes wide, and pushed off Theoric’s hand when it fell on her shoulder to hold her back.  
      
    She ran into the feasting hall, holding her skirts up above her knees, then skidded to a stop when she saw Helblindi lying on the floor. Whitish foam came out of his mouth and his red eyes were wide as he clawed at his throat.  
      
    Beloved Nine, Sigyn thought, he has been poisoned.  
      
    “Get Eir!” Frigga shouted. She saw Sigyn and held up a hand. “Sigyn, stand back, please--”  
      
    “Helblindi!” Sigyn was at his side in seconds, disregarding Frigga’s order. She pulled his hands from his throat before his nails could further dig into his skin. Her own fingers were covered in his bright blue blood in seconds. “Helblindi, stop fighting it, you will only make it spread faster--”  
      
    She gasped as sharp ice suddenly clawed into her skin. Helblindi, in his panic, had formed the ice on his arm and lashed out at her.  
      
    “Someone hold him down,” Loki snapped, and she jumped at the sound of his voice so close to her. She hadn’t noticed he’d come to stand behind her. Theoric and another guard followed his order, grabbing Helblindi’s wrists, then pulling away with yells of pain.   
      
    Their hands, once pale, were now dark blue and black. The frost bite didn’t progress further, but it kept them from grabbing hold of Helblindi again, and dissuaded anyone else from trying.  
      
    “Helblindi,” Sigyn said, putting her hands on his cheeks. “Listen to me. You will be fine. This is nothing for you, yes? You will not let this poison take you. You are a son of Laufey, and you will _not_ die so easily.”  
      
    “Get back,” a new voice ordered, and Sigyn ignored it as Eir came to kneel beside Helblindi. “You’re in the way, Princess. We have to get him to the Healing Rooms.”  
      
    Reluctantly, Sigyn backed away. Loki put a hand on her shoulder and then her arm, helping her to stand. He didn’t let go of her as Eir and the other healers she’d brought put Helblindi on a thin, movable mat, then picked up the corners and took him away as quickly as possible.  
      
    In the silence that followed, Sigyn found herself shaking. She felt Loki hesitate before he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.  
      
    “Sigyn.”  
      
    Numbly, she looked up at him.  
      
    “How do you feel?” Loki was studying her intently, concern bright in his green eyes, and then she realized everyone else was staring at her as well.  
      
    As if they were waiting for her to fall and begin foaming from the mouth as well.  
      
    “I--I am fine,” Sigyn said, her voice shaking. “I do not think I was poisoned. If we... if we had the same poison from the same water, I would be dead already. If the dose was high enough to cause him issues so quickly, I would be dead already.”  
      
    And then she burst into tears and hid her face in Loki’s tunic. He put his other arm around her shoulders, and she was overcome with the warmth of him, and how nice he smelled, like ink and dust and magic.   
      
    _Stupid,_ she thought, _I should not be focusing on this right now. Helblindi may be dying, and all I can do is think of how Loki smells?_  
      
    “Loki,” she could hear Frigga saying, “take her to her chambers. Theoric, guard her door, and Dagny, you make and deliver all of her food and water.”  
      
    “Yes, mother.”   
      
    “Yes, my Queen.”  
      
    “Come on, Sigyn,” Loki said gently, turning her so she could walk. “Let’s walk.”  
      
    She let Loki lead her blindly back to her chambers. It wasn’t until she was sitting down and Loki was pulling away that she grabbed a hold of his wrist. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”  
      
    It took her a second to realize she’d spoken in Jotun. She was about to repeat it in Aesir when Loki sat next to her, seemingly catching on to her request.  
      
    “Are you certain you feel well?” Loki asked again, brushing her hair behind her shoulder and ear. She absently leaned into his touch, closing her eyes at the feeling of his warm fingers on her cheek.  
      
    “I am,” she replied. “But I am so scared, Loki. What if he dies?”  
      
    Loki paused uncomfortably, then said, “Then our marriage may not be enough to save the Nine Realms from another war with Jotunheim.”  
      
    She bit her lip hard to keep from crying again. “Stop that,” Loki said, unkindly, and she let go of her lip before it could bleed. “He’ll be fine, as you said. Eir is the best healer these Realms have ever known.” He paused. “Besides you, of course.”  
      
    Sigyn met his gaze and saw that he was trying his best to cheer her up. She still held on to his hand and his other one had encircled her shoulders again. Something shifted in the air, so subtly that Sigyn almost missed it, but it made her breath quicken and her heart beat fasting.  
      
    “Loki,” she said quietly, more breath than voice. “I...”  
      
    “Yes?”  
      
    And then she lost her courage, so Sigyn simply shook her head and then rested her forehead on his shoulder. “You are very kind to me, Loki. You will never know how much that means to me.”  
      
    Loki paused before saying, “I wasn’t always.”  
      
    “But you are now,” she said. “That is what matters. What matters is that you changed.”  
      
    “You seem to have that effect on people,” he said, his thumb absently stroking her shoulder. “You’ll single-handedly change how we see the Jotnar, Sigyn, all because you’re you.”  
      
    Her grip tightened on his hand and she felt the tears coming again. “Oh, Loki. I hope you are right.”  
      
    She could hear him breathing evenly. She loved the sound of it so much she stayed where she was, on his shoulder, and closed her eyes to listen to it. He didn’t move her, so she didn’t pull away. It was strange, being so close to him. Sigyn would have thought that eventually his body heat would have been too much for her to bear, but it wasn’t. It warmed her, but not to the point of being uncomfortable or sick.   
      
    Likewise, Loki didn’t seem bothered by her cold body temperature either. He kept his arm around her, and his hand in hers, and eventually she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.   
      
    _If this is what it will be like when we are married,_ Sigyn thought, _then it will not be so bad._   
      
    She must have dozed off then, because the next thing she knew, she was startled awake by knocking at her chamber door. She looked to Loki, and he went to answer it.   
      
    “News from Lady Eir,” came Dagny’s voice, and Sigyn sat up straighter.   
      
    “How is Helblindi?” Sigyn asked as Dagny entered the room and came to sit across from her.   
      
    Her expression was grim. “He is not well, my lady. The poison was strong. Lady Eir is doing everything she can, but this poison is strange to her. She is uncertain as to how to fight it.”  
      
    Sigyn swallowed thickly, looking to Loki again for support. He met her gaze, his mouth a tight line. “I see,” she finally said. “If she--if she is not able to save him, how long until he...?”  
      
    “A day, at most.”  
      
    “A day,” Sigyn repeated, her voice weak. Then she did her best to recompose herself. “Thank you, Dagny. Please, get some rest. You can tell me in the morning if something has happened.”  
      
    “Thank you, my lady. Goodnight.”  
      
    “Goodnight.”  
      
    Sigyn waited until Dagny was out the door, then looked at the candles illuminating her entrance room. If Helblindi died, then everything she’d done would be for naught. Laufey and Farbauti would lose their eldest son in a way that couldn’t be undone. Laufey would accuse Odin of poisoning Helblindi, or lying to cover up an execution, and war would break out once again.  
      
    This time, though, Jotunheim would not survive it. Of that much she was certain. And if Helblindi died, where did that leave her? Would Odin decide to do away with her as well? Would she be executed or banished to another Realm?  
      
    “You should rest as well, Sigyn.”  
      
    She jumped. She’d forgotten Loki was still there with her. “I cannot rest now, after what I have been told. I fear it would bring nightmares.”  
      
    Loki came to sit back down next to her. “And yet being fatigued tomorrow will do you no good, either. Especially if Helblindi does die and we are left to deal with the consequences.”  
      
    Sigyn took a deep breath. Then she said, “He is not going to die.”  
      
    Loki gave a small nod. “It’s best to be optimistic.”  
      
    “No,” she said. “Helblindi is not going to die because I will not allow him to.”  
      
    She stood suddenly, walking briskly to her bathing chamber, her steps full of purpose.   
      
    “Sigyn?” Loki followed after her, then watched in confusion as she pulled out a bowl and began filling it with water. “What are you doing?”  
      
    “I need your help,” she said. “You will need to go to wherever they are keeping Helblindi and get some of his blood. Eight drops exactly. Do not get any more or less than that. If you do, then try again.”  
      
    Loki stared at her. “I’ve no idea what you’re speaking of.”  
      
    “Magic,” she said. “Is it not obvious?” She placed the bowl of water in the middle of her sitting chamber table, then pulled out a chair. “If Eir does not know of a way to save him, then I must try.”  
      
    Loki was silent for a long moment before saying, “Tell me what I must do.”  
      
    And so when he left her chambers a few minutes later, Sigyn swallowed her anxiety and stilled the trembling in her hands. There was no place for nervousness in what she was about to do.  
      
    _I am my mother’s daughter,_ she told herself. _I am the witch of Jotunheim, the victorious woman, the Princess of Asgard, and I will not let Helblindi die. I will not see war erupt between our Realms ever again._     

* * *

    Sigyn grit her teeth as the blade of her knife cut into her finger. As her blood began to well on her fingertip, she poured Helblindi’s eight drops of blood into her bowl of water, watching as it mixed with the other plants she’d put in already.  
      
    When her blood was red, she held her finger over the water and watched carefully as her blood began to drip. “One for sorrow, two for joy,” she began chanting, counting each drop as it hit the water. “Three for a burial, four for a birth, five for a wedding. Six for war, seven for peace...” She held her breath briefly as the last drop went in, then drew her hand back.  
      
    “Eight, you live. So I say, so shall it be. So I command it, so shall I be obeyed. Draw the poison from his blood; let his heart beat proud and strong once again. Let him turn away from the entrance to Hel’s Realm. So I command, so shall it be.  
      
    “Helblindi Laufeyson, you will not die. Eight drops of blood; eight you live.”  
      
    Sigyn wove off the spell, waving her unhurt hand over the bowl and freezing the water over. She sat staring at her frozen blood mingling with Helblindi’s, then became aware of Loki shifting next to her.  
      
    “What now?”   
      
    “Now,” Sigyn said wearily, “we wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "One for Sorrow" is originally a nursery rhyme about magpies. However, I've changed it up just a little to be a bit more sinister and to be a Jotun spell for the purposes of this fic. 
> 
> The lyrics in the beginning of the chapter come from Seanan McGuire's song "How Much Salt."
> 
> As a general note, I now have an author website which you can find at www.mirandaedawson.wordpress.com. This is where I'll be posting updates about the original novels I write and my attempts to self-publish them. If you've enjoyed my fanfic, then maybe you'll like my original works as well!


	17. Bastard Born

    “My lady--oh. Um. Pardon me.”  
      
    Sigyn groaned and opened her eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. It took her a second to take in her surroundings, and then she was suddenly aware of several things: First, Loki’s head was on her lap.   
      
    Or it had been, before he’d quickly sat up. Second, Dagny was standing in the doorway to her chambers, blushing slightly. Third, Theoric was looking in with a displeased expression.  
      
    Fourth, Sigyn realized her situation looked very, very bad from an Aesir’s point of view.  
      
    Thankful she was still in her gown from the night before instead of naked or her nightdress, Sigyn forced herself to stand though she was stiff and aching. “Yes, Dagny?”  
      
    “I can come back later if I need to, my lady.”  
      
    “No, that will not be necessary,” Sigyn sighed. “Please, tell us what you came to say.”  
      
    Dagny nodded, having enough tact not to glance again at Loki as he stood and tried to straighten his clothes. “Lady Eir believes Helblindi will live. Something changed during the night--she doesn’t know what--and he began recovering. The poison won’t kill him.”  
      
    Sigyn blinked, then went limp with relief. She leaned back against the couch and rubbed her eyes with a hand. “Thank you for coming so early to tell me, Dagny.”  
      
    “Of course, Lady Sigyn.” Dagny paused again uncomfortably. “Um, I need to prepare you for breakfast, but it can... wait a minute...”  
      
    “No,” Loki said. “I’ll take my leave.” He inclined his head shortly to Sigyn, then he was gone. Sigyn noticed he shut the door rather abruptly in Theoric’s face, much to his displeasure, she imagined.  
      
    Her skin was still warm from where he’d touched her. Sigyn ran her hands over her arms, shivering. “It is not what it seemed, Dagny.”  
      
    The servant inclined her head. “It’s not my place to judge you, my lady. You wouldn’t be the first woman who has taken a man to bed before they were married.”  
      
    “I did not take him to bed,” Sigyn said with a tired sigh. “I was upset about Helblindi and he stayed to comfort me. We both fell asleep here.”  
      
    Which didn’t quite explain how his head had come to rest on her lap. Truthfully, they’d both argued about who should get the couch the night before. Loki insisted he should, and that she should go to bed, and Sigyn refused because it was too far from the entrance chamber. When there was news about Helblindi, she wanted to hear about it as soon as possible, and besides, it would have been rude of her to force him onto the couch for the night.  
      
    After a while, realizing they were both too stubborn to back down, Sigyn had simply stayed where she was and then Loki had rested his head on the back of the couch.  
      
    “You will hurt your neck like that,” Sigyn said after a moment, watching him try to get comfortable. “Just lay your head on my lap, Loki, and go to sleep. Please.”  
      
    He’d stared at her. Before he could say anything, she held up a hand and tiredly said, “Yes, I know it is not how the Aesir do things. I do not care at this exact moment. Just do it and let us sleep.”  
      
    He’d finally relented and, after a bit of shifting, they both got as comfortable as they could manage. Sigyn would have thought she would have trouble getting to sleep, but as soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. The blood magic had taken more strength out of her than she’d anticipated.  
      
    Sigyn glanced down to her finger, making certain she had healed the cut before Dagny had a chance to see it.  
      
    “As I said,” Dagny repeated, “it’s not my place to judge. What dress do you want to wear today?”  
      
    She decided the matter was a lost cause and let it go, leaving Dagny to believe whatever she liked. As long as she didn’t spread rumours--and Sigyn knew she wouldn’t--then there was no point in wasting her breath.   
      
    “Do we have time to visit Helblindi before I must attend the morning meal?”  
      
    “We should,” Dagny said. “And even if you’re late, surely the Allfather and Queen will understand. I don’t know that he’s awake yet, though.”  
      
    “Even so,” Sigyn said, “I must see to him myself.”  
      
    Dagny eyed her in the mirror as she pinned Sigyn’s hair into place. “I thought both of you weren’t fond of each other.”  
      
    “We are not,” Sigyn said. “But I do not wish him to die.”  
      
    Dagny nodded slowly, then continued about her work. “I don’t know how it happened,” she said. “They have guards watching the kitchens. The cooks are all keeping a close eye on who takes what, and who’s allowed near the food. They have only the most trusted servants delivering the food. How are they getting past all that?”  
      
    Sigyn stayed silent, thinking it over. How, indeed? Gladsheim was vast, and held so many people. It wasn’t that hard to imagine that someone would be able to slip poison into a drink or some food without anyone noticing.  
      
    That wasn’t what Dagny couldn’t believe. Sigyn knew it. Dagny couldn’t believe that someone would go against the Allfather’s express wishes and commands and try to undo everything he was doing. To go against Odin was unthinkable to the Aesir, or so Sigyn had been led to think.   
      
    Something about the situation did seem strange, though. Why hadn’t she and Helblindi both been poisoned at the same time? He was at the summer festival just as she had been. Perhaps because she was the bigger threat? Once she was married to Loki, the treaty between Jotunheim and Asgard would be harder to break. Helblindi was less important in the Aesir court.   
      
    Sigyn puzzled over it as Dagny led her to the Healing Rooms where Helblindi was being kept. A few healers sat outside in the main chamber, mixing potions and studying books. Eir was there with them, her sharp eye watching over everyone. She nodded shortly to Sigyn before turning away.  
      
    Helblindi’s room smelled like illness. It clung to the back of Sigyn’s throat, making her cough, and the myriad of scented herbs in the room made her eyes water.   
      
    The chamber was dark and quiet, though she could hear Helblindi’s laboured breathing. She could make out his form on a bed, a thin blanket laid over him. Frost covered everything near him, turning the blanket into a stiff, glistening sheet. It was a sign Sigyn was well used to; it meant the body was in distress and trying to kill whatever had invaded it by freezing it.   
      
    She didn’t relish seeing Helblindi laid out as he was. She could only think of Farbauti, furious in her grief at losing her son not once but twice. Or of Byleistr, having his brother stolen from him by someone with a grudge. And of Laufey, his hatred growing ever deeper for the Aesir and all they had taken from him.  
      
    Even if she had hated Helblindi more than anything else in the Nine, Sigyn knew she would not enjoy this sight.  
      
    “Stay back,” she told Dagny. “The frost may accidentally hurt you.”   
      
    She made her way over to Helblindi’s bedside, taking in how he looked. A quick glance at his fingers told her that the cut Loki had done the night before to get his blood hadn’t healed. She took his hand in hers, pretending to grip it as if to give him strength in his sleep, then healed the wound. Hopefully no one else had noticed it.  
      
    _You will never thank me for saving your life,_ Sigyn thought. _And that is fine. So long as you do not ruin everything I have done, I will consider us even._   
      
    Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, Helblindi took a sudden, wracking gasp for air and woke up. His red eyes flitted about the room before landing on her and, with a weak snarl, he pulled his hand out of her grasp.  
      
    “Good morning,” Sigyn said, her tone slightly wry. “I see you are feeling well.”  
      
    “What happened?” His voice was raspy, so she poured him some water and then paused.  
      
    “Dagny, fetch us some fresh water, please.”  
      
    “My lady.”  
      
    She set the cup aside and considered Helblindi. “You were poisoned.”  
      
    His eyes widened slightly. “What?”  
      
    “Last night at the evening meal.” Sigyn found a chair and pulled it up to his bed, sitting down and leaning her elbows on her knees. “Lady Eir managed to save you. You must thank her later.”  
      
    Helblindi scowled, but surprisingly he offered no biting retort.   
      
    _He truly must feel awful, then,_ Sigyn thought.   
      
    “They are looking for the poisoner now. Heimdall’s gaze must have been elsewhere, for it to have happened again,” she said. She wondered where he was looking to, that he was ignoring Asgard as much as he was.   
      
    Helblindi said nothing, and something in his silence made her wary. Sigyn tilted her head. “Unless you may know something of who did this?”  
      
    “Why would I?”  
      
    Sigyn stared a moment longer before shaking her head. “I do not know. Never mind.”  
      
    Dagny came with fresh water and Sigyn poured him a new cup. He drank from it greedily, then laid back down, closing his eyes.  
      
    “Do you still believe these Aesir mean well for you just because they want to give you a crown?”  
      
    Sigyn tilted her head, furrowing her brow. “I do,” she said. “The poisoner is one person. Asgard is vast and full of many people.”  
      
    She may have been a tool, a means to an end for Odin Allfather. But Sigyn believed with all her heart that most of the rest of them did not mean her harm.  
      
    Helblindi met her gaze. “Even though your husband to be is a bastard born?”  
      
    It took Sigyn an embarrasingly long time to place the word bastard. It was not a word known to Jotunheim, the concept foreign. When she realized what it meant, she grew very still.  
      
    “What do you mean?”  
      
    “Sigyn,” Dagny said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “we should go.”  
      
    So Dagny knew as well? Sigyn ignored the woman and focused on Helblindi’s triumphant smirk. “What do you mean?”  
      
    “Ask him yourself,” Helblindi said, his breath wheezing again. He turned away from her and she knew she would get nothing else from him.  
      
    Knees trembling, Sigyn turned to look at Dagny. The servant looked nervous and that told Sigyn everything she needed to know. Helblindi was telling the truth. Sigyn pushed past Dagny and made her way out of the Healing Rooms, passing a small servant boy carrying a tray of food and the other healers. She caught a few strange looks as she rushed out, but Sigyn ignored them.  
      
    _Bastard born,_ she thought. _Is Loki not the Allfather’s and Frigga’s son?_ He had to have been, if he were raised as a Prince in Gladsheim.   
      
    “Lady Sigyn!”   
      
    Sigyn finally stopped at the end of a corridor, catching her breath. Dagny came to stand beside her, but Sigyn found she couldn’t look her in the eye.  
      
    “Please,” Sigyn said when she heard Dagny take a breath to begin speaking. “Do not. I--I would hear this from Loki himself, I think.”  
      
    Dagny hesitated before inclining her head politely and stepping back, resuming her role of the servant. Sigyn knew she should have reassured her, let Dagny know that she wasn’t in any trouble. The words did not come, though, so Sigyn simply straightened her dress and hair before making her way down to the feasting hall.  
      
    She did not look at Loki once during breakfast. She couldn’t. When Frigga asked how Helblindi was doing, Sigyn quietly said that he seemed to be doing well and that he would pull through. A woman tasted everything on Sigyn’s plate before she was allowed to eat it herself. Theoric stood by her side, frowning in disapproval at how she had left without him for the Healing Rooms. She would have to apologize later, she knew, but for now she kept to herself.  
      
    How much had she been lied to? She wanted to trust Frigga and Loki but they were proving it hard to do. Sigyn found she couldn’t muster up the strength to confront either of them about it. Not that day, at least.  
      
    “Sigyn,” Frigga said when she rose to leave, “you will be staying in the throne room today, with myself, the Allfather and Loki. It’s time you sat in on matters of court.”  
      
    And time for everyone to keep a closer eye on me in a wide, public space, Sigyn thought. She merely nodded and followed Frigga into the throne room.   
      
    Loki walked beside her, arm brushing against hers. Even though she felt betrayed and hurt, her body still shivered at his touch and longed for more of his warmth.   
      
    “Good morning, my lady.”  
      
    “And to you, my Prince.”  
      
    If he thought her following silence odd, he said nothing about it. He simply took up a place on the steps leading to the Allfather’s throne, opposite his mother.   
      
    Sigyn hesitated, uncertain of where to stand. Then Dagny gently pulled her over to Loki’s side. She and Loki shared a glance, then Sigyn looked away down to the floor.   
      
    The court proceedings were as confusing to her as she’d known they would be. She didn’t know how Odin made his decisions about farming or the shops or anything. Thankfully she wasn’t called on to offer any advice or her own thoughts, so Sigyn simply stood back, watched, and learned.   
      
    When her back was in agony and her feet burned from standing for so long, Sigyn hoped the court day was nearly over. She thought it slightly unfair that Odin was allowed to sit and everyone else had to stand. When the servant called out the last case, Sigyn nearly fainted with relief.  
      
    A dark haired woman and three men came to stand before Odin, then bowed with their fists over their hearts. Sigyn tried to place them, then realized it was Sif and the Warriors Three.  
      
    Beside her, Loki shifted just slightly, enough for her to notice. She glanced at him briefly, but his expression gave no clue to what he was feeling or thinking, so she looked away again.  
      
    “Allfather,” Sif began, “we request that you end Prince Thor’s banishment.”  
      
    An uneasy silence fell throughout the throne room. Frigga looked to Odin, a crease between her brows.   
      
    “I cannot,” Odin said. “The truce with Jotunheim requires that Thor stay banished.”  
      
    “Surely it can be rewritten,” Sif argued. “You cannot mean to leave him banished forever.”  
      
    “Have you forgotten,” Loki began, his voice deceptively cool, “that Thor’s actions on Jotunheim broke the previous treaty, caused another war, and countless lives lost on both sides?”  
      
    Sigyn gave him a surprised sidelong glance. He had counted Jotunheim among the losses. Would he have done that before?  
      
    “I do not forget that,” Sif said, her voice sweet. “I also do not forget that you were there as well, my Prince, and you did not stop him.”  
      
    Loki shrugged a shoulder. “I tried. In the end I thought it better to go with him to minimalize the damage as much I could.”  
      
    Sif didn’t lose her smile, but it gained an edge. The redheaded man--Volstagg, Sigyn reminded herself--spoke up suddenly to the Allfather.  
      
    “If I may beg your indulgence,” he said, looking uncomfortable, “he is your son. As Lady Sif said, you can’t want to leave him banished--”  
      
    “He is paying the price for his actions,” Odin said, his voice ringing out with anger in the throne room. Sigyn cringed, remembering the terrible warrior she saw in Jotunheim, his cape the colour of dried blood. “Do you question your Allfather?”  
      
    The four all fell silence, sharing uneasy looks. Finally the blond man spoke up. “No, of course not. We merely beg you to reconsider.”  
      
    “I will not,” Odin said, and that was that. The four bowed again. Sigyn saw Sif’s shoulders and back stiff with anger, but they could do nothing against the Allfather.   
      
    Frigga watched them depart, then turned to her husband. “Odin,” she began.  
      
    “We’ve spoken of this, Frigga,” Odin said, his voice still firm but no longer angry. He was being gentle with her, Sigyn realized. The idea of Odin being gentle with anyone seemed so bizarre to her that she could not accept it. “What’s done is done.”  
      
    Frigga pursed her lips before turning and leaving. Sigyn wondered if she was meant to follow the Queen, but she decided to stay with Loki. When no one spoke out against her choice, she relaxed slightly.  
      
    The courtiers filed out, as did the councilmen, and finally Odin left last. Loki stayed standing, though, and after a while Sigyn turned to him.  
      
    “Loki?”  
      
    He started, gaze focusing on her. When he realized where they were, his expression became strained, as did the smile he gave her. “My apologies,” he said. “You’re free to go for the day, my Lady.”   
      
    She frowned. “What is wrong?”  
      
    “Nothing,” Loki said, sketching a bow to her. “I’ll see you at the evening meal.”  
      
    “Loki,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Please. Speak to me.”  
      
    He stared at her, then shook his head. He turned and walked out of the throne room with Sigyn watching.   
      
    “My Lady,” Dagny said gently, “we should go.”  
      
    Sigyn didn’t turn to look at her. “No,” she said decisively. “You have the afternoon free, Dagny. I have no need of your services.”  
      
    “Sigyn?”  
      
    “Please,” Sigyn said, turning to the woman. “Do not tell anyone where I have gone. Loki is upset, can you not tell?”  
      
    Dagny frowned. “Well, no...”  
      
    “I must go to him. I will speak with you later.”  
      
    “But--”  
      
    Sigyn turned and left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be uploaded later tonight. It's a special one. ;)


	18. Only If For A Night

    Sigyn didn’t hesitate before pushing open Loki’s chamber door. She didn’t know for certain he’d be there. With her luck, he would have sought refuge in his study and she’d get lost trying to find it again.   
      
    To her relief, Loki stood in his entrance chamber. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her before his expression closed off and he turned away.   
      
    “I thought I made it clear I didn’t wish to talk about it.”  
      
    “I know,” Sigyn said, closing the door behind her. “But I worry for you.”  
      
    “Don’t.”  
      
    “It is not that simple,” she said, going over to him. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze, even as she came to stand beside him. “What has upset you?”  
      
    Loki didn’t answer for a long time. He stared out the window instead, his expression far from calm. “You’re aware that my elder brother Thor was banished for going to Jotunheim that day, don’t you?”  
      
    “Yes,” Sigyn said with a nod. No one had said much about Thor to her, but she had gathered that much at least.   
      
    Frankly, she was glad of it. Odin was bad enough to deal with; Sigyn would have never felt comfortable in Asgard had Thor still lived there.  
      
    “Some are unhappy with Father’s choice of punishment,” Loki said, hands clenching and relaxing. “They want their Crown Prince back.”  
      
    She saw, suddenly, what the issue was. Loki was now the Crown Prince, and everyone was begging for Thor to return. Even Frigga wished for her son’s return.   
      
    Sigyn bit her lip, then cautiously said, “What do you want?”  
      
    Loki seemed taken aback by her question and didn’t know how to answer it. He struggled for a moment, then said, “Thor was an idiot. He never should have gone. It’s only right that Father banished him for what he did.”  
      
    “That is not what I asked,” Sigyn said patiently. She put a hand on his shoulder, stepping closer to his side. “What do you want, Loki?”  
      
    Loki stared at her and she saw something crumble. “I want him back,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also wish people would stop calling for his return.”  
      
    She nodded slowly. “I do not want him back,” she said honestly. “Thor scares me. I saw him that day on Jotunheim. I saw him kill my kin before I left the citadel for my safety.”  
      
    He shifted uncomfortably and then pulled away from her, going into his sitting chamber. “He wouldn’t have hurt you. You’re a woman, and a small one at that. He would have spared you.”  
      
    Sigyn followed him, clasping her hands in front of her. “Would he?”  
      
    “Yes,” Loki nearly snapped, turning around to face her quickly. “Thor was an idiot and he’s dangerous, but he still had a good heart. He wouldn’t have killed you.”  
      
    Sigyn inclined her head in deference to his words. Deciding it was a lost battle, she moved the subject away from Thor. “I think you will be a great King.”  
      
    It seemed she was continually throwing him off balance in their conversation. Once again Loki wasn’t sure how to respond. He ran a hand through his hair. “If only that opinion were shared by everyone else.”  
      
    “They will come to see it, in time,” she said soothingly. Loki sighed, looking away from her. “Do you have anyone you can trust?” Sigyn asked quietly, trying to meet his gaze.  
      
    Loki ran a hand over his face before answering. “My mother.”  
      
    She waited for him to name anyone else, and when he didn’t, her heart dropped. She averted her gaze to her hands, twisting the ring she was wearing. Frigga, who had also asked for Thor’s return. At least she had the excuse of being a mother who loved both her sons dearly and wanted one back.  
      
    Sigyn peeked another glance at Loki. He was staring out the window now, his expression troubled, the sun shining so brightly that his green eyes looked grey.   
      
    She had thought his looks weren’t worth much comment before. He wasn’t ugly or handsome to her; he simply was. He looked Aesir and that was all. But now that Sigyn had gotten to know him, know the subleties of his face and how his mouth was framed by deep laugh lines and the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, she knew he was beautiful. Perhaps not in the way Aesir thought of beauty, but then she was not the usual idea of beauty herself.   
      
    Loki was so beautiful to her.   
      
    Slowly, though not with any hesitation, Sigyn reached forward with both hands and took his in them. She stared at them for a moment, noting how their skin looked against each other. The dark blue of her skin, etched with dark lines and blue nails, next to his pinkish white skin with strange blue-green veins and red calluses on his palms.   
      
    It didn’t make her feel strange or ugly. Rather, she marveled at how small her hands were in his, how much longer his fingers were. How warm he was. She didn’t warm to his touch, and he didn’t cool at hers. Their temperatures simply met and mingled but did not void each other.  
      
    “Me,” she said quietly. When Loki gave no answer, Sigyn looked up at him. She felt the deepening colour of her cheeks when she saw his intent gaze on her. “You can trust me, Loki. I would not betray it.”  
      
    “You cannot know that,” Loki said. He did not pull away from her, but she could sense a hesitation in him, a stiffness in his body. “If you thought doing away with me would help your Realm, you would do so.”  
      
    “If I were following my heart,” Sigyn said shakily after a pause, “I would not.”  
      
    The shocked silence that followed her vague but unmistakeable declaration rubbed rawly against her already frazzled nerves. She tried to wet her dry mouth, tried to swallow, but found she could not. All she could do was stare at Loki as he looked at her, surprise and hesitation and perhaps a little fear clouding his expression.  
      
    Finally he found his voice. “But you don’t follow your heart. You do what is right.”  
      
    Sigyn absently rubbed her thumbs against his knuckles. She did not miss the fact that he’d avoided professing any feelings for her one way or the other. “If I care for someone and protect them, even at the cost of my Realm, is that so wrong?”   
      
    “Would you truly?” There was an edge in his voice, a spark of distrust in his eyes. “Could you be led astray by something as simple and meaningless as love?”  
      
    Sigyn met his gaze levelly. “You do not mean that,” she said with a quiet confidence.   
      
    Loki opened his mouth to rebuke her, then closed it, his jaw tightening. After a few minutes his expression softened and his eyes traveled down to the purple pendant she wore. A hand broke away from hers to come up to it, his fingers lightly pressing on the chain and then following it down to the actual jewel.  
      
    She shivered at his touch, wanting to press against it and have him feel more of her skin than he was now. She’d been surviving on light touches and simple hugs for too long. Sigyn wanted much more than that now, as every muscle in her body was telling her, as the cold that flooded through her made her all too aware of Loki.  
      
    “Sigyn,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes, reveling in how wonderful her name sounded when he said it. Then she heard him shake his head. “I can’t be the man you think I am.”  
      
    She opened her eyes. His hand moved to the back of her neck, as if Loki couldn’t stop touching her even though he was trying to convince himself and her that this was all a foolish idea.   
      
    “I am not kind,” Loki said. “I’m cruel, and I can be ruthless. I’m considered a coward. I’m untrustworthy. I stop at nothing to get what I want and to do what I consider best for myself, my family and my Realm. You,” he continued, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against hers, “are good, and compassionate, and loyal, and you have honour.”  
      
    “Do you think I do not know that?” Sigyn said, tilting her head up a little. So close, she thought, if he would just lean down, I could taste his lips. “I know you, Loki. And I still want you.”  
      
    His fingers went up into her hair, tilting her head back. Sigyn closed her eyes, his breath warm on her face.  
      
    Then she leaned up and kissed him.   
      
    Given how immediately Loki responded and how he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her against him, Sigyn knew that he had been waiting for this as long as she had. His lips were soft and she could taste a hint of the sweetened ale he’d had at breakfast.   
      
    Loki nibbled at her bottom lip, eliciting a soft sound from her. The hand that had been on her waist went down her side and Sigyn wished her skirts weren’t in the way when he touched her thigh. Then he put his hand underneath her leg and pulled it up, and she hooked it around his hips, and then he pushed her against the wall.  
      
    Sigyn ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it gently. It fell from its usual style, making him look adorably mussed. Loki finally pulled away from her mouth and kissed her jaw, then her neck, and the place where her shoulder met her neck. He nipped at her collarbone and his fingers dug into the fullness of her hips. His other hand left her neck and then she felt her skirt being pulled up, Loki’s fingers brushing against her inner thigh, and then finding the place that had begun to ache in the last few minutes.  
      
    “Loki,” she breathed softly, tilting her head back, arching into his touch. The feeling of warmth there was new but far from unpleasant. “Oh--”  
      
    Then Loki accidentally got a mouthful of her hair and sprang back in surprise. Sigyn blinked, her mind trying to catch up with what just happened and how to reconcile it between the freezing thrum of her blood. Then she took in his mildly irritated expression and, though she tried to bite it back, began laughing.  
      
    That just made him look more put out. “Sigyn, please,” Loki said, his voice strained. “This isn’t the time for laughter.”  
      
    That just made her laugh harder. Sigyn clapped her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle it, but couldn’t.  
      
    Loki pulled away, frowning, and Sigyn almost mourned the loss of her fingers between her thighs. But she couldn’t stop laughing, and then the corners of Loki’s lips twitched upward, and then finally his shoulders shook and he was laughing quietly along with her.  
      
    When she was finally able to stop, Sigyn shook her head and grinned at Loki. “I like it when you laugh,” she said, reaching out for him. Loki let her put her hands on his hips and press close to him, but he sighed and shook his head.  
      
    “We shouldn’t,” he said. “Not until we’re married.”  
      
    Sigyn frowned. “Why not? If we are going to be married anyway, what does it matter if it is now or later?”  
      
    “If anyone found out, such as the servants, and word got around...” Loki took some of her hair, simply feeling it between his fingers. “The people would not be kind to you for it.”  
      
    “Do you think they do not already call me a whore?” Sigyn asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. “Is that not the idea you have of my kind, that all the women are whores who bed anyone they care to, freely?”   
      
    Loki didn’t reject what she’d said. He couldn’t. It was the truth.   
      
    “What is so wrong with that?” Sigyn wondered quietly, nuzzling her nose against his cheek and breathing him in. He smelled of ink and dust and magic, mixed with leather from his clothing.   
      
    “Nothing,” Loki said with a small shrug. “The Aesir do the same, generally.”  
      
    She ran a finger down to his clavicle, strangely mesmerized by how the high collar of his tunic framed his neck. “Then why not now?”  
      
    Loki kissed her forehead softly, arms going around her waist. “If you’re absolutely certain, Sigyn,” he said. “I don’t want you to regret it if something should happen.”  
      
    “I am with you,” Sigyn said, kissing his neck. “I will never regret it.” She paused before looking up at him. “But one thing first,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Do you love me?”  
      
    Loki blinked, then laughed quietly, though she could see a slight hesitation and unease to his expression. “Sigyn,” he said, “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t.”  
      
    She considered that for a moment before nodding. This was Loki’s way, and she knew that. Sigyn pulled him into a kiss, one that lacked the frenzy of the kiss before but was still altogether wonderful.   
      
    Loki led her into his bedchamber, and finally she was able to know what it felt like to have his warm body pressed fully against her own, to see him without his layers of armor. His skin was pale and smooth and fascinating to her, and she traced the lines of his muscles with her fingers while he shivered and closed his eyes at her touch. His kisses left her trembling and her knees weak, her voice breathless and shaky.   
      
    When he attempted to be gentle, as if she were a maiden, Sigyn cupped his face with her hands and said, “Do not pretend this is unknown to us, Loki.” Then she gently pushed him onto his back and laced her fingers with his, and when he pushed up into her and his head fell back against the pillows and he gasped her name, she smiled and kissed him, love freezing through her, mingling with his warmth.  
      
    He held her afterwards, the sound of his breathing and the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep though it was only the late afternoon.   
      
    It was only when she was on the verge of sleep did she hear a quiet, “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well how about that. 
> 
> I now have a playlist for this little fic up on grooveshark: http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/Of+Rain+And+Snow/93435158 Kinda sorta follows the chronological events of the story, with the first track being the overall theme, Laufey, Kill Them All, Crisis in Asgard, and You'll Be Queen One Day (a.k.a. Sigyn's Theme) all taking place in the first chapter. 
> 
> As for the rest, well... you'll have to figure it out yourself. ;)


	19. Morning Glow

    Sigyn woke to a strange weight on her waist, something solid and warm behind her, and no clue where she was. Then there was a quiet sigh in her ear and a familiar voice sleepily said, “Hello again.”  
      
    She turned her head to see Loki, his hair falling every which way, including into his eyes. His arm slid under the blankets and then resettled itself on her waist. His fingers lightly rubbed her hipbone. He blinked slowly at her, fatigue lining every bit of his face. At his smile, she felt her heart quicken.  
      
    _You beautiful man,_ she thought as she turned her body to face him. His hand pressed against her lower back to hold her in place against him.  
      
    “Hello,” Sigyn said quietly, kissing him. “What time is it?”  
      
    “An hour before the evening meal,” Loki answered, resting his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. When he was like this he looked so much different. At ease and happy, instead of holding himself back and tense, waiting for a blow that he thought may come from anywhere.  
      
    Sigyn ran a hand along his jaw, then his neck, collarbone and shoulder, then to his arm and back up. “Do I have you to myself for another hour, then?”  
      
    “Half,” Loki said, his body breaking out into a shiver from her touch. Not one from the coldness of her hand or body, but from how much he loved feeling her hand on his bare skin. “The servants will have to come in and prepare me.”  
      
    “Half,” Sigyn said in amazement. Half an hour of Loki all to herself.   
      
    He glanced at her with one eye. “Are you planning to do something to me in that half hour?”  
      
    She laughed and shook her head. “You look properly worn out. I think I have done enough.”  
      
    Loki smiled and kissed her again. They stayed in the bed for a little while before Loki pulled away, running a hand through his hair in a hopeless attempt to straighten it. “We should get up.”  
      
    “Must we?”  
      
    “Yes,” Loki said as he sat up, pulling off the blanket. “I don’t think my parents will accept this as a good excuse to miss my duties.”  
      
    “Mmm,” Sigyn sighed, stretching languidly as Loki stood and began retrieving his clothes from wherever they’d been left. She watched, gaze roaming over every bit of his body even as he pulled on his breeches and tunic.   
      
    Loki turned to look at her once his tunic was on. “You can’t stay in my bed like that,” he said.   
      
    She grinned. She stretched further, letting the blanket fall off her chest. “Why not?”  
      
    Loki swallowed. “You can’t stay there because you’re entirely too tempting.”  
      
    “Am I?” She shimmied upright somewhat, letting the blanket fall further to her hips, obscuring just enough to make Loki weak.   
      
    “Sigyn,” he said, failing to be stern. “You’re not helping.”  
      
    She laughed and sat up. “Forgive me, szerelmem.”  
      
    “What?”  
      
    “Mmm?”  
      
    “Sze...?”  
      
    “Oh,” Sigyn smiled. “My love, I think it translates to in your language.”  
      
    Loki swallowed again and looked away. “Ástin mín.”  
      
    She wondered if his heart raced like hers did when he called her that. How had this happened? How was it that she had ended up falling in love with the man she was to marry? Never in all her centuries could Sigyn have foreseen this.   
      
    She had hoped for tolerance at best from Loki. She had feared he would always hate her and see her as beneath him. She’d feared that she would never have a loving husband and would have to simply take comfort in their children.  
      
    It was so much better than she could have ever hoped for. Loki was hers, as surely as she was his.   
      
    Sigyn got out of bed and slipped her shift on. It would do for the moment before she forced herself to wear her underdress and overlayer again.   
      
    She went to Loki and put her arms around his waist, kissing his neck. “Can I see you after the meal?”  
      
    “Please,” he said, leaning back into her. “Please do.”  
      
    Sigyn kissed his cheek, then sighed. “I should get dressed and leave before the servants come.”   
      
    Loki laced his fingers through hers when she was dressed and led her out to the chamber door. “Nothing has changed between us, as far as my parents are aware,” he said. “We should keep our touches to a minimum for now. I don’t want to give them any reason to suspect we’ve gone farther than we should have.”  
      
    Sigyn nodded silently. Frankly, she wouldn’t have touched Loki in public much anyway. That sort of thing led to the Aesir calling her a whore and asking her to warm their own beds. She wondered if that would stop when she was married.  
      
    “I understand,” she said, leaning up for another kiss before she left. It was a long, lingering kiss, both of them unwilling to let go of each other. Finally she pulled away and smiled dazedly at him as she reached for his door. “Until later.”  
      
    “Until later, ástin mín.”  
      
    Giddy, Sigyn left his chambers, savoring each and every reminder of her bedding of Loki, from the slight soreness between her legs to the ache where he’d sucked too hard or even bit her skin.   
      
    That giddiness quickly left her when she saw Theoric standing outside her chamber door. He gave her a surprised look before that tightened and, at once, he knew what had happened.  
      
    “Theoric,” Sigyn said, lifting her chin and daring him to judge her.   
      
    “My Lady.”  
      
    “I am sorry, I should have given you the afternoon free as well. I gave it to Dagny, but you were not with us at court, so I forgot.” She moved past him into her chambers, letting him come in as well.   
      
    “I’m your guard, my Lady,” he said plaintively. “I shouldn’t be free from my duties of protecting you.”  
      
    Sigyn paused, then bluntly said, “You cannot protect me from the poisoner, Theoric. They use a weapon you cannot guard against with a sword or shield.”  
      
    For a while, as she’d been with Loki, she had forgotten all about her numerous troubles. The poisoner, Helblindi, and his claims that Loki was a bastard. Now they all came crashing into her once again.   
      
    Though perhaps it wasn’t right to say she’d entirely forgotten about them, Sigyn reflected. It just seemed, with Loki, so much easier to bear the weight of all of them than it was alone.  
      
    “Were you with the Prince long?” Theoric finally ventured, trying to be as casual as he could.  
      
    Sigyn sighed. “Please do not ask questions that you have already answered.”  
      
    Theoric looked hurt. Unlike Loki, he did not control it into blankness. Sigyn winced, running a brush through her hair. Loki had made a mess of it.   
      
    “Forgive me,” she said quietly. “That was unkind of me.”  
      
    “Do you love him?”  
      
    She dropped the brush. It landed against her vanity with a clatter, but she ignored it in favor of Theoric. “What?”  
      
    “Do you love him?”  
      
    “I--” She shook her head incredulously. “What does that matter?”  
      
    Theoric stepped forward earnestly. “If you do, then I’ll say nothing of it. I swear it. But I do wish to know, truthfully, if you hold Prince Loki in such an esteem.”  
      
    She stared at him for a long moment before saying, “You love me.”  
      
    He stood straighter, trying to recompose himself. “I do.”  
      
    Sigyn turned away from him, closing her eyes tightly. “I am sorry for that.”  
      
    That was answer enough, it seemed. After a second she heard Theoric step away from her and then say, “I’ll be outside if you have need of me, my Lady.”  
      
    When the door closed, Sigyn went to a chair and fell into it. How had things become so difficult between her and Theoric? Yes, she’d always suspected that he held deeper feelings for her than a simple guard protecting his Princess. She’d managed to ignore it though and hoped he’d keep it to himself.  
      
    Perhaps I can convince Frigga to dismiss him, Sigyn thought. Or would I do that now? She decided not to worry about it and forced it from her mind. She had more pleasant things to think about now.    

* * *

    The evening meal passed in a blur and before Sigyn knew it, she was back in Loki’s bedchambers, pressed against his bed by his weight. She laughed when he broke their kiss to catch a breath. “I thought I was coming here to talk,” she teased.  
      
    “Did you really?” Loki kissed her neck, sucking at it.  
      
    She made a small sound before managing, “Yes.”  
      
    “Then you were much mistaken.”  
      
    “Loki,” she sighed, loving the way he made her feel. “Truly, I wanted to speak to you. We can continue this later.”  
      
    Reluctantly Loki pulled away, his lips already slightly swollen from kissing her. He nodded and sat down next to her, looking more than a little disappointed.  
      
    Sigyn laid there, not wanting to bring up what she’d been thinking about. Then she sat up and put her chin on his shoulder. “Helblindi... when I went to visit him today, he said something that I was, um, not aware of.”  
      
    Loki paused, waiting for her to continue, so in a rush she said, “He said you were a bastard.”  
      
    He stiffened and pulled away from her. “What?”  
      
    “I knew it could not be true,” Sigyn said quickly. “But I wanted to hear it from you. I do not care if you are a bastard or not--the entire concept is strange to me!--but if you were then I wanted you to tell me, not anyone else.”  
      
    Loki stared hard at her. He was furious; she could tell by the way his shoulders shook and the spark in his eyes. Then he took a deep breath.  
      
    “I am.”  
      
    She blinked. Then breathed out a quiet, “Oh.”  
      
    “Odin is a King, and they are not known for staying in just one woman’s bed. He’s better than some, but even he has had his indiscretions.”  
      
    Loki wouldn’t look at her as he spoke. From shame, she wondered? Or something else?  
      
    And did this mean he would have the same indiscretions when he was King? When he was her husband? The very idea sent a chill of horror through her. She wanted to claim him for her own and keep him from any others who might want him. The strength of her possessiveness towards him scared her.  
      
    “Mother forgave him for it. But after she had Thor, she found she couldn’t have any more children,” Loki continued. “Father was put into a problematic situation. There is a saying, ‘heir and a spare’.” He smiled bitterly. “Thor was the heir, and Father legitimized me so that I could be the spare.”  
      
    Disgust rolled through her. “You are not a spare,” Sigyn exclaimed angrily. “You are so much more.”  
      
    Loki held up a hand. “As you say,” he said. “My birth Mother died from illness shortly after I was born. I suppose Father took pity on me for that and brought me here, where I may have a family instead of being sent to a house for parentless children.”  
      
    That image of Odin as a kind, caring man who didn’t want a son of his to be left alone in the Nine was so laughable, Sigyn nearly lost it. Odin was not that man, no matter what Loki insisted.   
      
    “The same man who considers you a spare?”  
      
    Loki’s frown deepened. “He doesn’t consider me that.”  
      
    She paused. “You... do not tell me you consider yourself that, Loki.”  
      
    When he didn’t answer, she bit her lip hard. Before she could speak up, he continued. “Mother--Frigga--has been kind to me. Truthfully, I consider her my Mother more than a woman I can’t put a face to.” He shrugged. “It is what it is.”  
      
    She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you are not upset by it, then I suppose I should not be either.”  
      
    At that, Loki finally gave a little smile. He took her hands in his, pulling her arms out of their crossed position. “Sweet Sigyn,” he said softly, “you are far too good.”  
      
    “Stop that.” She kissed him fiercely, refusing to let him stay on that thought. “I am not too good for you and you are not too good for me.”  
      
    “Well, if you’re so insistent, how can I argue?” Loki laughed. “Truly, Sigyn, it doesn’t matter that I’m a bastard. Not at all, now that I’m to be King. And you,” he put a hand on her cheek, “will be a very beautiful Queen.”  
      
    He was lying. She didn’t know how she knew, exactly, just that she did. Being a bastard did still bother him, but he was clearly trying to play it off lightly for her sake. Sigyn put her hand on his and smiled slightly.  
      
    “Our wedding is so soon,” she said, allowing them both to drop the subject. “I was dreading it for so long, and now I cannot wait for it to happen.”  
      
    Loki rose his brow at her honesty, then laughed. “Do you perhaps want another taste of what our wedding night will be like?” His tone was mischievous and his grin broad.   
      
    Sigyn returned his grin with one of her own. “I would.”  
      
    For now, she would forget all their troubles. She would forget Theoric, standing guard outside her door though she wasn’t there. She would forget Helblindi and his vindictiveness. She would put aside Loki’s feelings of inadequacy for now and try to make him feel loved.  
      
    All that mattered now was Loki. Everything else could wait until morning.


	20. Oath of Binding

The day of her wedding dawned bright and clear.

Sigyn was woken by Dagny hours before sunrise, an army of maids behind her. Sigyn stumbled about, still exhausted from the night before, when she’d been kept up late by the pre-wedding feasts. Then Loki had pulled her into a secluded corner of a corridor and kept her up even further.

Dagny noticed the dark marks on Sigyn’s neck and shoulder from Loki’s kisses. She glanced at Sigyn quickly before focusing again on bathing her. Sigyn made a mental note to thank Dagny later, when things were not so busy. 

The coldness of the bath made her want to sleep again, but soon Dagny had her out and dried off, then hurried back to her dressing room. 

A maid brought over the wedding dress and Sigyn sucked in a breath at how gorgeous it was. Aesir, yes, but gorgeous nonetheless. The fabric was dark blue, the colour of a maiden bride. Runes done in gold and green embroidery were for good luck, a happy life and many children. She idly thought that there should have been some for everlasting peace as well. The sleeves would reach her knees in length and were made of the thinnest fabric Sigyn had ever seen. Where the shoulder straps rested, gold metal circles were placed in the middle of the sleeves where there was a split. The sleeves would remain open on her arms, so as to not overheat her.

From the back came a long train of green fabric, flowing from the same metal circles on her shoulder blades. It draped in such a way that her back would still be visible through a half-circle opening. She fingered it gingerly, thinking of how it contrasted against the Allfather’s cape. Green was the colour of life on Asgard, of fertility. It seemed fitting to her that while Odin carried death on his shoulders, she would carry life.

Sigyn gazed at herself in the mirror as Dagny prepared her hair. She was not afraid, she realized with a shock. She’d stopped being afraid so long ago, even before she’d bedded Loki. 

_I am ready for this,_ she thought. _I have been ready._

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Once the dress was on and her ladies were putting on her jewelry, Frigga came into her chambers, followed by Lofn, Nanna, Freyja, and the other ladies of her court.

“Oh, Sigyn,” Frigga murmured, putting her hands on Sigyn’s shoulders. Her eyes glistened and her smile was proud yet sad at the same time. “You look so beautiful.”

“You do,” Lofn agreed as she and Nanna rose from their curtseys. 

She’d have to get used to that sight, she realized. People curtseying to her as Princess of Asgard, and the future Queen. 

“Thank you,” Sigyn said, inclining her head. Her hair fell out along her shoulders; this was the last day she’d wear it undone as an unmarried woman. After this, when she was in public or entertaining, she would wear it up much like Frigga’s. She toyed with it absently, marveling at how soft it’d become with Asgard’s hair oils.

She’d changed so much. Her bones no longer portruded from underneath her skin as they’d had in Jotunheim. She had a welcome weight on her stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts had grown as well. She’d caught Frigga and Eir eyeing her hips once a few days before and knew they were considering how easy childbirth would be for her now. She’d never seen herself like this before, without that shadowed look of hunger and wariness that had haunted her every step back home.

_I wonder what my mother would think of me now,_ Sigyn thought as she put a hand on her stomach to emphasize the paunch underneath her dress. Would she have been happy? Or would she have despaired of her daughter being claimed by the ruthless warmongers?

“Are you nervous?” Nanna asked, bringing Sigyn out of her thoughts.

It was no use wondering what her mother would think now. Sigyn let her hand fall away. “No,” she said truthfully, smiling at Nanna. “Not at all.”

Frigga smoothed her own dress out, a beautiful light green with shimmering embroidery along the hem. “Theoric will be carrying the sword that will be given to Loki during the ceremony,” she said lightly. 

Sigyn paused. As she’d understood it, a kinsman was supposed to carry the sword.

Then she realized. Of course no one would trust Helblindi with a sword near the Crown Prince. It was a miracle he was being allowed to the ceremony at all. Although Helblindi had no need of swords if he truly wished to kill Loki.

Sigyn quickly put that thought out of her mind. She simply nodded to Frigga.

Freyja stepped up next, resplendent in a red gown. “I would have married Thor like this, if I had not already been married.”

Frigga shot her a look that Freyja ignored. Sigyn merely raised an eyebrow.

“Alas,” Freyja said with a sigh, “it was not to be.” She ran a hand through Sigyn’s hair before saying, “You’re a beautiful bride. More beautiful than I was on my wedding day.”

“Thank you, Freyja.” 

There were last preparations to make, so Sigyn stepped aside and let everyone do as they would. She didn’t notice the dark haired woman approach her until she heard a quiet clearing of a throat.

“My lady,” the woman murmured, and it took Sigyn a moment to place her. 

“Lady Eydis,” she said politely. The woman had given her a very wide berth since she’d made her feelings clear. They still saw each other at Frigga’s gatherings, but otherwise ignored each other and were content with that.

“I wish you a most happy wedding and future,” Eydis said, and as far as Sigyn could tell, she was sincere.

“Thank you.”

“And I offer my apologies for how I acted when you arrived,” Eydis said, bowing her head deeply. “My husband died during this last war, and I wasn’t in my right mind when I saw you.”

“Oh,” Sigyn said. “I am so sorry, Lady Eydis. I did not know.”

“I know,” Eydis said. “That’s fine. I only hope you’ll accept my apology and let us move past our unfortunate beginning.”

“Yes, of course,” Sigyn said quickly, offering her a smile. She put a hand on the woman’s arm gently. “I do not want enmity between any of us. I long only for peace.”

Eydis smiled at her, brown eyes sparkling. “As do I, so that no other wife will have to know my pain.”

Sigyn nodded. Frigga announced it was time, so Eydis bobbed a curtsey before stepping away. Sigyn let out a breath of relief, feeling lighter than she’d already had when she woke up.

It was going to be such a wonderful day. And night, she thought with a grin she kept hidden from the others.

\--

As the doors to the throne room opened, a quiet gasp of shock escaped her. It was crowded with people, leaving only a thin line of empty space for her to progress to the throne. All of Asgard had come to see her wed Loki, and for the briefest of moments she faltered.

Then she saw him. He was dressed in his ceremonial armor, with the ridiculous golden helmet that she’d had to try very hard not to laugh at when she’d first seen it. He looked handsome, but she found she preferred him in his casual clothes. 

Sigyn wondered what he thought of how she looked. If Loki thought anything at all, his expression gave nothing away, at least not from where she stood.

She walked the line, keeping her gaze on him to help block out the crowd. Behind her stood Frigga and Theoric, then Helblindi and the rest of the ladies. She did not glance once at Odin. She didn’t want to see that cold stare again; feeling it on her was bad enough.

Then she was there, standing before Loki. She took her place in front of him, wishing she had something to hold so her hands didn’t feel so useless. He expression remained blank, and she was almost disappointed in how well he kept up his facade of not caring about her.

But then Loki’s gaze slipped downward just briefly and the corners of his lips twitched upwards minutely. Both quickly disappeared underneath the politely blank expression, but still her heart raced. 

_Husband mine,_ Sigyn thought joyously. _Oh, dearest Loki._

As Frigga and the other ladies took their places, Odin rose from his throne and walked down the steps to stand between them, just off to their sides. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze on Loki. Anything to distract her from how close the Allfather was.

“Loki Odinson,” the Allfather began, “present to the Lady Sigyn Brynjadottir your weapon.”

There was a flash of silver and then Loki held a dagger. She took it from him, holding it blade down. 

“You will one day give that to your son,” Frigga had explained to her. Sigyn felt sick holding it now. Would her children be forced to be warriors like their Aesir father? Would they go to other worlds and kill mindlessly and celebrate the blood on their hands?

_Do not think of it,_ Sigyn thought desperately. _There is time to worry about it. Not now. Not now._

“And to the Prince, present your weapon.”

Theoric stepped forward to Loki’s side, getting down on one knee and bowing his head as he held the sword up to Loki. He took it, careful of the ring that hung off the end of the hilt.

“I now give you this oath of binding, my lady,” Loki said, and she was shocked by how loud his voice was. She was used to him speaking so smoothly and quietly. He took the ring from the hilt and she held out her right hand. As his fingers caressed her palm, a shiver went down her spine. 

Loki slid the ring onto her finger, where it gleamed gold against her skin. 

“And to you, my Prince,” Sigyn said, trying not to wince as her voice came out shaky. “I give you my oath of binding.” She took the matching golden ring off of the hilt of Loki’s dagger and slid it onto the finger of his right hand. 

Aesir wedding customs were so strange to her. She didn’t know exactly what the rings were meant to represent, but she hadn’t wanted to ask. Loki would explain it to her later, she was certain.

Sigyn put the dagger away and then took hold of the hilt of the sword. Loki’s hands enclosed over hers, and his warmth made her smile just slightly. Let anyone who saw her smile think of it what they would; she no longer cared.

“Speak your vows, Loki Odinson.”

Loki straightened. “Sigyn Brynjadottir,” he began, “I swear to honor Asgard, my ancestors, and you, by never breaking this oath. I will be faithful to you in all things.” He paused, momentarily, before continuing. “I will not spill the blood of your kinsmen, nor will I dishonor them by treating you as lesser than you deserve. This I vow until my dying breath.”

“Loki Odinson,” she said quietly, his name like honey on her tongue, “I swear to honor Asgard, Jotunheim, my ancestors, and you, by never breaking this oath. I will be faithful to you in all things. I will not spill the blood of your kinsmen, neither will I dishonor them by treating you as lesser than you deserve. This I vow until my dying breath.”

There was a rumble of muttering at the addition of Jotunheim in her vows. Sigyn ignored them. She was going to be Queen one day. Who were they to judge her anymore?

Odin wrapped a silky golden ribbon around their hands, tying it off on the hilt of the sword. “So two become one,” he said. “Husband and wife, Prince and Princess of Asgard.”

The throne room trembled with the strength of so many people clapping together. There were even some cheers. Sigyn’s smile grew as she turned to face the crowd, feeling hope and joy blossom in her chest. Only Helblindi did not react. She could see the judgment in his gaze, so she simply looked away from him to her husband.

The festivities that followed were too chaotic for Sigyn to keep up with. There was feasting, which Volstagg seemed to enjoy the most out of everyone present. Gifts were presented, so many that Sigyn gave up keeping count of them after a while. People danced as the music played; even Sigyn was persuaded to dance with Loki, though the Aesir steps were still strange to her. 

And while no one looked, Loki kissed her briefly, licking the honeyed meade from her lips. 

It was late when she and Loki were finally allowed to leave the celebration. Loki left first, Theoric, Fandral, Hogunn, Volstagg, and Odin following. Sigyn was left with Freyja, Frigga, Lofn, Nanna, and Eydis. The women chattered happily around her as they helped Sigyn change into her wedding night gown, placing a crown of woven flowers onto her head. Sigyn knew they must have meant something, but she’d completely forgotten anything Frigga had taught her of flower symbolism. 

“You must tell us everything tomorrow,” Lofn whispered to her when she was ready. “Absolutely everything.”

“Lofn!” Nanna gasped, though she was unable to keep from laughing. 

Sigyn bit back a giggle, thinking of how she could already tell them quite a lot. “I will.”

They left to join Frigga and Freyja. Only Eydis stood close to her now. The woman smiled at Sigyn, who paused. There was something sharp in her smile that didn’t sit right with Sigyn.

“May your marriage be everything you wish for,” Eydis said, raising a glass to her. “And full of good fortune.”

Unsettled, Sigyn nodded her thanks and went to stand next to Frigga. The Queen patted her shoulder, smiling reassuringly, until Sigyn managed to convince herself that she had been overreacting. 

And then she was taken to Loki. 

When Sigyn had heard that part of the consummation had to be witnessed, she had been both horrified and embarrassed. The Jotnar weren’t shy about sex, true. But even they considered the marriage’s first night to be between the couple. They would never have come up with such an idea.

Worse, Sigyn realized as she stepped into Loki’s bedchamber, was that Odin was there. That cold gaze settled on her, and Sigyn wished he wasn’t there to see her in her night dress, or see her next to his son in bed. She immediately sought out Loki, who stood by the bedside, his expression as calm and neutral as ever. 

He gave her a slight nod, easily missed by everyone else. Sigyn took a breath to calm her nerves, then let Frigga present her to Loki. Frigga gave her one last smile before stepping away. 

Sigyn bit her lip, uncertain of what came next. Loki raised his hands, his fingertips brushing against her cheeks lightly before pulling the crown from her head. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh, every part of her suddenly aware of him. Loki set the crown down at the foot of the bed, looking to Odin.

The King nodded. “The marriage is consummated,” he said. “Nothing will break the binding.”

Sigyn blinked. Was that it? She watched as one by one, everyone left the chamber. The door closed behind the last person, leaving just her and Loki, finally alone.

She tried to think of something to say, then blurted out, “Aesir weddings are very different.”

Loki smiled, stepping towards her. “I’m certain they are,” he said, slowly pulling a pin out from her hair. “Will you forgive me if I’m not entirely interested in hearing how they differ right now, wife?”

Oh, how that word sent a shiver down her spine. Sigyn closed the space between them, pressing herself against his warmth, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I will,” she said. “I think I will always forgive you, husband.”

In hindsight, the moment of silence that followed her statement should have warned her. Loki merely met her gaze, his expression solemn, before he tilted his head towards hers. “I hope so, Sigyn,” he said. “Of everyone in Asgard, yours is the only forgiveness I need. I hope the day doesn’t come that you can’t give it to me.”

He kissed her, and Sigyn thought no more of his words. If she had, maybe her heart would not have been so broken later on.


End file.
